


Malfunction

by viceroyvonmutini



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-03-21 00:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3671604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceroyvonmutini/pseuds/viceroyvonmutini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year. One more year and Sameen Shaw can move on, study somewhere else and be one step closer to where she needs to be. No trouble. Keep your head down. And stay away from mysterious pretty girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We've Got Chemistry Together

**Author's Note:**

> I caved. I should not be writing this but it was too good to resist, and after a little encouragement (really it only took one person) I decided sure, why not add another multi-chapter fic to your busy schedule. 
> 
> It won't be super long, but I have an ending. 
> 
> I know nothing about chemistry. My chemistry knowledge stops at what I read in Scientific America for fun so please excuse any bad science and feel free to correct me.

Sameen Shaw pushed her body further, breathes coming in ragged pants as she rounded the corner, dorm building in sight. The rain was pounding on her bare flesh as water dripped over her eyes in streams and hair stuck to her head. Her feet never lost rhythm as they slapped the sidewalk in a steady beat.

Arms pumping she picked up her pace the final few meters before coming to a stop in front of the dorm building steps, breathing heavily. She stretched out as her breathing returned to normal, taking a few seconds to look at the rising sun before jogging inside.

Her single room was on the third floor, right at the end of the corridor and away from prying eyes. She unlocked the door, taking off her shoes and placing them to dry near a less than satisfactory electric heater that she promptly turned on, its electric buzz filling the room.

The watch on her wrist said 6:34. She still had two hours until first class.

She stripped and pulled open the curtain to her small shower: big enough for one and one alone. The water trickled down her body washing away the cold and the sweat: the rain fell harder than the water from her shower, the pressure pump long dead, but it soothed her pounding muscles and as long as there was a shower, she could get that fixed later.

Drying herself off and changing into shorts and a tank top despite the cold temperature she padded across the splintered wooden floor to the small kitchen area, pulling out milk from a small fridge and pouring Trix into a light blue plastic bowl.

Breakfast sorted, she brought her meal to her wooden desk that faced a wall next to the only windows in her room. She kick started her laptop, munching on brightly coloured sugar balls as she flicked through her emails.

Monday morning. Two months into her final undergraduate year at college. No suspensions, one bar brawl, zero knife fights, no persons chucked into the college fountain and one almost-explosion in the Chem lab, but the year was still young.

Oh yeah, and it was Halloween.

 

* * *

 

 

The rain didn’t let up and Shaw kept her head down as she made her way to her next class.

No one got in her way. No one ever bothered her. Just the way she liked it.

Shaking herself off slightly she pushed through the glass doors into the science building, where she spent the majority of her time when she wasn’t in the library working.

The lobby was decorated with skeletons and pumpkins and while not particularly fond of celebrating Halloween she was by no means averse to picking up a handful of candy from the pumpkin bowl on the front desk as she made her way up the stairs to her 2:30 Chem class.

The class was a practical class, the whole reason she took it, but this meant lab partners. Shaw didn’t really give a shit who she was partnered with so long as they shut up and let her work but everyone else seemed to have a problem being paired with the dark girl in the corner, the subject of many rumours and with a nasty bite.

Her assigned lab partner was a guy named Cole: decent looking, all-round nice guy majoring in Chemical Engineering. He got good grades and did the work, which was all Shaw really cared about; he did, however, have a tendency to talk. A lot.

That said Shaw didn’t really mind the guy. He was probably the closest thing she had to a friend in this place.

‘So you doing anything tonight Shaw?’ he asked nicely enough, weighing out some magnesium.

Shaw glared in her safety goggles, carefully measuring out some methylbenzene into a beaker.

‘It’s Halloween Shaw! Even you must be planning something!’

Shaw’s glare intensified as she watched Cole work.

‘No.’

Cole looked mock-outraged.

‘Why not?’

He received a glare in response.

‘Look, all I’m saying is, it’s Halloween. Turn up to a party, let loose, pick someone up. Just go out Shaw: it’s Halloween!’

‘So you’ve said.’

Cole brought the metal measuring palette over to the flame of the Bunsen burner, magnesium resting on its end. Shaw watched passively as he stuck the magnesium in the flame producing a white-hot light.

After some shouts from the class and professor, who was by now used to their antics, Cole resumed the conversation.

‘There’s a party at a friend’s frat house. Come along. Everyone’s going. There’s lots of beer and plenty of food.’

Shaw kept silent, arms folded as she watched Cole complete the assigned experiment.

Cole shrugged.

‘Suit yourself. Starts at 10 if you’re interested though: you’ll know where to go it’ll be the most packed place on campus.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow but said nothing more, writing down the appropriate chemical equations swiftly.

She didn’t have any friends and didn’t get invited to many things: that’s not to say she hadn’t gatecrashed her fair share of gatherings and she loved to party she just…didn’t like people. Kept herself to herself. It was for the best.

Still, as she nodded a curt goodbye to Cole walking out of the lab, heading straight for the warmth of the library, she figured logically he was probably right. She did want to go out and Halloween was probably the best time to pick up a stranger.

Which was why she found herself stood pouring herself another luke warm beer into a red plastic cup at roughly midnight in a frat house surrounded by sweaty guys dressed as Dracula and girls dressed as slutty nuns.

Someone had made the mistake of asking her what her costume was: the glare she had given was sufficient to send the freshman scampering away. He was probably someone’s brother.

She pushed her way through to the corner of the room, leaning against a clear wall watching a nearby keg stand. She’d been approached a few times but Sameen Shaw had standards and so far, all the pickings had fallen below par. Still, Cole had greeted her at the door and handed her a beer before fucking off so she was determined to find something worthwhile lest this trip be in vain.

She spotted the kitchen and charged ahead, jostling through the drunken students as she reached the well lit, empty kitchen. The counters were strewn with beer cans, bottles, plastic cups and most importantly: snack foods.

Shaw grabbed the nearest share size packet of Chili Heatwave Doritos and ripped open the bag, leaning against the side as she began munching whole-heartedly on its contents.

‘Should you be eating those?’ sung a voice.

Shaw snapped her head around to its source. A tall woman leant against the doorframe leading to the garden. Shaw gave her the once over: brown hair, leather jacket, great legs in those black skinny jeans. She looked good.

Still, Shaw was midway through eating and no matter how great the legs she was still a sniveling student who had dared interrupt her eating.

Shaw didn’t dignify the question with a response, looking the mysterious student in the eyes as she slid another Dorito into her mouth. The woman raised an eyebrow.

‘Well that was childish,’ and a smirk played at her lips.

Shaw glared, willing the woman to go away with her mind. Instead she walked forward, heeled ankle boots clicking on the linoleum tiles before she stopped infront of the silver double-doored fridge, searching for something to eat presumably, and making quite a show of it to Shaw’s annoyance.

‘Hmmmmm, what do you think I should have?’

Shaw didn’t respond, keeping her trademark expression in place.

‘I’m feeling ice cream. Ice cream and Doritos. Great combo.’

Shaw raised a skeptical eyebrow and the woman turned around with a flourish, vanilla ice cream in hand as she shot a smile at Shaw.

‘Don’t judge until you try it.’

She sauntered over to where Shaw stood, coming in very close as she reached behind Shaw to get the Cool Original flavour.

Much to Shaw’s chargrin the irritating guest towered over her and she almost had to strain her neck to look up at her.

The woman pulled away, leaning on the counter opposite as she busied herself preparing her snack.

Shaw watched every movement.

‘It’s rude to stare,’ chirped the woman, dipping a Dorito into the ice cream.

‘You dipping Dorito’s into ice cream.’

‘Well observed: 10 points!’

Shaw frowned, eating a handful of chips.

‘What’s your name?’

‘I don’t see how that’s relevant.’

The woman cocked her head to the side.

‘Well the two of us, meeting by chance in a frat house kitchen eating Dorito’s together, it’s a bonding experience. I feel I should know your name if we’re going to be friends.’

‘I don’t do friends.’

The woman studied Shaw with gleaming eyes, licking the ice cream from a Dorito.

Shaw held the gaze.

‘I’m Root,’ she supplied.

‘What kind of a name is that?’

‘A good one.’

Shaw stared at her some more.

‘Shaw.’

The woman-Root-grinned.

‘Nice to meet you Shaw. Do you have a first name?’

‘Do you?’

Root frowned like she hadn’t thought of that and that fact annoyed her.

‘Huh. I guess that should be expected.’

The kitchen descended into silence as the sound of crunching echoed in the room.

‘You’re not particularly talkative are you?’

‘You are.’

Root smirked.

‘I’ll talk enough for the both of us.’

‘Please don’t.’

Root quirked an eyebrow.

‘You really speak your mind don’t you?’

Shaw shrugged. Root put down her food.

‘Well, lovely talking to you Shaw but I think I have to run. Classes and all that. We should do this again sometime.’

Shaw scoffed as Root headed out into the front room. Before she disappeared she turned around and offered Shaw a wave.

Shaw frowned, watching raptly as Root walked off into the crowd. What kind of a name was Root anyway? And who the hell was she? And how dare she interrupt my time of eating?

Shaw was pissed off. Root had been good-looking and charming and Shaw probably would have engaged her for her entertainment had she not been supremely pissed off that she had been interrupted eating and then forced to make small talk.

Shaw frowned, eating another Dorito. She was never going to listen to Cole again.

She headed towards the door, but not before grabbing two more bags of chips for the walk back to her room.

 

* * *

 

 

There was a loud rap at Zoe Morgan’s door. She groaned and buried herself further into the covers of her bed, not willing to face the universe just yet.

The knocking persisted, louder this time.

Her roommate, Joss Carter, groaned in frustration.

‘Fucking answer it Zoe,’ she mumbled, shifting around in frustration. Zoe took a moment before sighing and exposing herself to the cold of their shared room, dodging various items on the floor before unlatching the door.

‘What?’ she demanded, hair over her eyes that still smoked with last night's eyeliner.

She was greeted with a grinning Root.

‘Nice to see you too Morgan.’

‘Root?’

‘Absolutely.’

Root pushed her way inside, sitting herself down vigorously on the end of Zoe’s unmade bed.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ she questioned, rubbing the sleep out of her eye.

‘Loving the 'last night’s make up' look: were you out?’

‘It was Halloween Root of course we were.’

‘Who the fuck is that tell them to leave Zoe I’m _sleeping_ ’

Root turned her gaze to the mound in the bed on the opposite side of the room.

‘You must be the roommate. We haven’t met yet.’

‘Can we meet later?’ grumbled Carter, pulling the duvet over her head.

Root chuckled softly.

‘I’ve come at a bad time.’

‘Ya think?’

‘I expected more enthusiasm from you Morgan: it’s been at least 3 years since you flew off to New York.’

‘Longer since you flew off to wherever the hell you flew off to’ corrected Zoe, walking over to the kitchen to put on some coffee.

‘Hm, you’re right. 5 years? 6?’

‘5.’

‘Hm. Sorry about that.’

Root didn’t sound particularly sorry at all.

Zoe waved her off anyway.

‘Your emails and letters were enough. At least you bothered to keep in contact. What do you even do anyway?’

Root made vague gestures with her hands.

‘Stuff. Things. I work with computers a lot and travel mainly. Keeps me busy.’

Zoe poured three cups of coffee.

‘You were always good with computers.’

‘And you were always good with people.’

‘So were you in those final years.’

‘Yeah, I got better.’

‘Carter: coffee.’

Carter grumbled and rolled out of bed, walking to grab the proffered cup and sitting on the kitchen counter.

‘So you’re the mysterious Root I keep hearing about?’

‘The one and only!’

‘How are you so cheerful. It’s 9am. Restrain your cheer.’

‘Lack of sleep mostly: I code. That and the fact that I didn’t get hammered last night.’

Carter grunted in acknowledgement.

‘So why are you here Root? Why now chose to stop off in NYC to check up on me.’

‘I need to quiet down for a bit. Keep off the radar so to speak. Not that I’m not always off the radar but I wanted to take a break so I figured I’d just hang around, take a few classes and leave when I feel like it’ shrugged Root.

‘You’re going to college?’

‘Well not _officially_ I’m not enrolled or anything but I might venture to some classes, parties, that kind of thing. Just to pass the time.’

‘You’re too intelligent for the classes Root’

‘You flatter me. What are you doing these days anyway?’

‘Majoring Political Science, minoring in Art History.’

‘Huh. Doesn’t surprise me one bit. You gonna be a politician Morgan?’

‘Hell no.’

The two grinned and Carter groaned once more at the noise.

‘What about you- Carter was it?’

‘Mechanical Engineering and Art History.’

‘Odd combo I like it. I might tag along to a few of your science classes.’

‘Great: Root at college. I really don’t think this place knows what’s hit it.’

‘Absolutely. It should be fun.’

Carter shifted from her seat at the counter.

‘I have class in half and hour: you’re welcome to join.’

‘What is it?’

‘Chem module. Written. Structures or something?’

‘Yeah I might take you up on that.’

‘Oh great. Root keen on learning. I hope you realize you’re going to find it so dull.’

Root grinned.

 

* * *

 

 

Zoe was right: this was more boring than watching wallpaper turn yellow. She knew all of this: alcohols and benzene structures. She had to physically stop herself from yawning. Why did she ever think this would be a good idea? Still, she needed a place to lie low for a few months and where else than college?

Root sat at the back of the lecture hall, feet resting on the desk as she leant back in her chair fiddling with a nearby plastic model of Buckminsterfullerene.

As she picked apart the model she noticed a small, dark haired woman who looked vaguely familiar two rows in front of her taking intense notes. As she turned to get something from her bag on the floor, Root recognised the face and smirked to herself.

The girl from the kitchen: Dorito girl. Shaw-with-no-first-name.

Root kept her eyes trained on Shaw for the remainder of the increasingly dull lecture studying her hunched over figure as she absentmindedly reassembled the model into TNT and other explosive chemicals.

Finally the lecturer closed shop and Root stayed put, watching with a glint in her eye as Shaw packed up her things and left the hall. Root leisurely followed her, hands stuffed in her leather jacket pockets her own long legs easily keeping pace behind the short woman.

Suddenly Shaw stopped in the empty corridor and spun to face Root who came to a standstill a few meters out of Shaw’s reach. Shaw glared at Root while she smirked.

‘Shaw! What a pleasant surprise.’

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ she growled, very unhappy.

‘I just happened to have the same lecture as you that’s all.’

‘You’re following me.’

Root raised an eyebrow.

‘Don’t be absurd. I’m simply walking down the same corridor as you.’

Root delighted as she saw the pint-sized angry woman visibly grind her jaw before she spun round and stalked off.

Root watched her as she disappeared round the corner, pleased smirk never leaving her face.

She was definitely intrigued: here was a challenge worthy of her: a way to hone her skills with people and possibly get some more…personal benefits. The months of laying low were going to be painful without some entertainment: Shaw might just fit the bill.

First things first: first names.

Root scanned around her before striding into a nearby open lecture theatre and bringing to life the one computer in the room. After a few adjustments she quickly found her way inside the college records system and set a search for Shaw.

It didn’t take long for her to find her target.

Sameen Shaw.

Root grinned and read her file and all attached records before erasing her presence. She didn’t need to bother printing or sending them to herself, she was pretty sure she could access the college mainframe from her own apartment but this short glance would satisfy her for now.

Sameen Shaw: the straight A student with a tendency towards violence.

Perfect.


	2. Research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Root-centric chapter: just establishing some plot points I'm afraid.
> 
> I should probably make clear Root and Shaw are 21/22 respectively. Root isn't precisely the Root we know. Shaw is still pretty much the same though. Good 'ole Shaw. 
> 
> Sidenote: I am not skilled at programming and unfortunately am not Root, therefore any hacking things that don't make sense please let me know.

‘Are there any computer science courses?’ moaned Root, hanging upside down from Zoe’s bed hands flat on the floor.

‘Yeah of course: got a friend, Harold, he’s a wiz with computers and takes Comp science with a minor in Math.’

‘Hmmmm…do you know which classes he takes?’

‘No we don’t cross paths often. I only know him because Carter knows him through John. Oh, and that one time Fusco introduced us at the Varsity hockey game.’

‘Can you introduce me?’

‘Uhhh sure I guess. I might as well introduce John and Fusco too: the whole crew. How about pizza night tonight?’

‘You know I love pizza.’

‘I’ll text ‘em.’

Root sat up, rubbing her head as the blood rushed back to her body.

‘Hey Zoe?’

‘Hmmm?’ she responded, busy texting the others.

‘You’re popular right?’

‘Define ‘popular’?’

‘You know everyone.’

‘Root. This is me.’

Zoe spun round on her swivel chair, face all business looking straight at Root.

‘What do you need to know and who do you need to blackmail?’

Root shot a smirk over her shoulder before turning her whole body round and sitting cross-legged on the bed.

‘I need some information-and not the type I can get from a computer.’

‘Oh? Must be important. It’s been a while since you’ve asked for _my_ help. That business man didn’t count.’

‘Oh yeah thanks for that. How was that?’

‘Well I’m _alive_ thanks for not asking. Not even a thank you email. I was hurt.’

Root had the decency to look sheepish, offering a somewhat insincere smile.

‘Yeah sorry about that I was sort of in a rush; but I figured you could handle it?’

Zoe flicked her hair.

‘Well he was utterly disgusting, but it was fun and I am good at it just like you said I would be.’

‘Thought you might appreciate it.’ Root cocked her head, ‘I can get you more work like that if you’d like?’

Zoe regarded Root with sharp eyes: her body screamed nonchalant but Zoe felt the weight of the words. Big brown eyes studied her reaction almost warily, waiting for an answer.

Zoe took a deep breath, her voice soft.

‘What… do you do Sam?’

Root straightened up, face showing no hint of the playfulness it once possessed whole body on alert.

‘Don’t call me that.’

Zoe’s eyes grew soft, ignoring Root’s hard tone.

‘What happened to you…Root?’

Root didn’t move, fingers gripped into the bed sheets betraying her tension. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax and pulled a hand through her hair looking away.

Carter chose that moment to burst through the door, chucking her bag on her bed before following it’s trajectory diving face first onto her bed.

‘I hate physics’ she mumbled incoherently into the bed.

Apparently Carter had failed to notice the tense air in the room and Root grasped the opportunity with both hands, laughing at Carter’s entrance.

‘Why _are_ you doing engineering again?’ she joked, standing up and helping herself to a drink from the kitchen.

Carter rolled over looking up at the ceiling.

‘I don’t know you very well Root but you make some excellent points.’

Zoe spun around to face the two, following Root’s lead but shooting her a pointed look, which was promptly ignored.

‘She’s ‘biding her time’ apparently.’

Root raised an eyebrow.

‘Bit much for ‘biding your time’ isn’t it?’

Carter let out a sigh and waved her hand dismissively.

‘Parents.’

Root nodded in understanding, taking a sip of her soda.

‘So Carter: you up for pizza night? I’m gonna introduce Root to the crew.’

‘Mmm, John invited?’

‘Of course but nothing tonight please unless it’s in his room I have a test tomorrow.’

‘Can we not broadcast my love life to the new girl.’

‘Don’t mind me…’ teased Root.

‘I hate you all.’

‘No no I’m excited to meet this _John_ ’

‘I will punch you.’

‘Stay away from her man Root, she will deck you one’ warned Zoe, leaning back on her chair.

Root shot a grin.

‘Understood.’

‘So what info did you need anyway?’

Root gently swirled her can of soda while Carter pulled herself up.

‘You need info? On who? Someone here?’

‘Mmmhmm. I’ve heard you’re good at finding things people don’t want found?’

‘What do you need?’

‘Sameen Shaw. What do you know about her?’

‘Quiet, keeps to herself mostly; there’ve been a few incidents where her name gets mentioned but as far as know nothing solid.’

‘John knows her.’

Root turned to Carter.

‘Oh?’

‘Not well,’ she shrugged, ‘I think he’s seen her in the gym a few times. Hardcore stuff I think.’

‘The last place Root would look,’ muttered Zoe.

‘I go to the gym…sometimes.’

‘Once a year doesn’t count,’ Root opened her mouth to protest, ‘and nor does it count for picking up dates.’

Root scowled.

‘Rather than _mocking me_ maybe we could return to my person of interest?’

‘Straight A’s, BioChem Major signed on for pre-med, been in a couple of fights. Lives close to campus in a dodgy neighborhood alone, likes to work out and partial to black coffee. I see her a lot in the library too.’

‘Every student is in the library Morgan. So essentially I know nothing I didn’t already know from a brief look at her file earlier?’

Zoe shrugged.

‘I never really paid attention to her.’

‘Useless.’

‘I can find out more if you’d like but it’ll take a while.’

Root thought about it.

‘No don’t worry.’

‘What’s the interest?’ asked Carter, rifling through her bag for her books.

‘Nothing much,’ answered Root flippantly.

She placed her half finished can on the side and headed for the door, opening it with a flourish.

‘Starts at 8!’ yelled Zoe after her and Root waved in acknowledgement not looking back.

 

* * *

 

‘Ms. Turing, lovely to see you,’ greeted the doorman as he opened the glass door for Root to walk through.

‘Thanks Nick.’

She shot him a smile and made her way through the tiled lobby, heading straight for the elevators and stepping inside pressing for floor 7. She was alone as it traveled up, catching sight of her reflection in the mirrored walls.

Her apartment was the only one on floor 7 and she paid for the privacy it afforded her: open plan, lowered lounge area complete with HD flat screen TV, fully stocked bar in the corner, modern kitchen and a white sheeted double bed positioned near the back wall. Glass doors led out onto a small terrace overlooking Central Park.

It was sparse, no pictures and not many personal items except the clothes stuffed in the wardrobe, the bookshelf next to the bar and the numerous laptops, desktops, wires and phones of various kinds littering the room.

Root-Caroline Turing in this building- pulled off her boots and slid across the wooden floor towards the counter, sitting on a black leather stool and quickly opening a stickered laptop.

The screen flickered to life and she unlocked its systems. She checked her regular emails, noting the dispatch of a particular item of interest, before concentrating on her current goal.

Breaking into the loosely encrypted college intranet proved little challenge as she had suspected: it was hardly built to fend off someone of her caliber, she mused, so it was an unfair match up. Still, the firewalls were stronger than she anticipated in some areas though nothing out of the ordinary.

She’d investigate the anomalies later.

For now she was single-minded. Access to the intranet acquired it didn’t take her long to gain unfettered access into the private files of administrators, staff and students: anyone with an intranet link-up really.

She was a ghost, slipping through supposedly protected files easily. She would view Shaw’s personal account at a later date: for now it wasn’t strictly necessary. She set up a small code to trace for any relevant data with the words ‘Sameen’ and ‘Shaw’ including all emails, documentation and intranet access points before spinning round and made herself a coffee with her frankly far too complicated coffee machine.

Latte at the ready she refocused her attention to her laptop, watching as the data was nicely copied and siphoned into her own hard drive, a file subtly named ‘research’.

As half her screen ran the program she kept an eye on her other more dubious finances, sifting through data that had come through on her various devices from various locations and through a ridiculous amount of servers to end up on this apparently average yet highly protected laptop.

Things were unusually quiet due to her ‘leave of absence’ from her regular circles, but that didn’t mean she was any less careful and she kept on eye on those she had regular contact with. Not that they knew it of course, no matter how much they professed skill and ability.

She had a plan; she just needed time.

The program indicated completion and she swiftly dismantled its code, scattering it amongst the existing hardware. She exited the system but not before noticing an unusually elegant software addition lingering on supposedly ordinary research.

She filed the knowledge away for later.

She checked the time: 16:08. More than enough time for her to sit and read through this data collection before meeting the others.

 

* * *

 

‘I got you pepperoni: that all right?’

‘Absolutely Zoe,’ responded Root, who sat down on the floor with the others in a circle, ring around an impressive collection of alcohol.

‘Drink?’ offered Carter

‘I’ll stick to the wine thanks.’

Carter handed her a bottle of cheap white wine and a red plastic cup: the epitome of class.

‘So you must be the mysterious John and Harold I’ve heard about?’ she questioned, taking a sip of her drink and barely suppressing a grimace.

‘John Reese.’

Root scanned him her cup: physically imposing, stoic, and intense. She could see why John and Shaw might have reason to drift together.

‘Pleasure.’

She flashed him a grin.

‘Which means you must be Harold Finch.’

‘Indeed. And you are?’

‘You can call me Root,’ she responded amicably enough.

He nodded politely.

‘Fusco couldn’t make it,’ explained Zoe, ‘something about actually studying?’

They all grinned, themselves masters of ignoring important deadlines.

The conversation moved on and Root said little, content with merely watching their interactions: it wasn’t like she was here for long in any case.

She noted Harold take small tentative sips from his bottled beer over long intervals: clearly not a beer drinker. His posture was stiff yet relaxed: he was comfortable with those around him, not at all aware of his immediate surroundings but perhaps naturally inclined to give an air of superiority. That irked Root slightly.

John on the other hand was constantly alert: his posture similarly stiff but tense, never losing track of those around him. She wondered what had happened to make him so…alert. He was probably a lot like Shaw, she mused, but then from what she had read Shaw was one of a kind.

Her lips curled up at the thought.

Zoe’s phone rang and she picked up, indicating the pizza had arrived and John and Carter went down to collect the pizza buffet they’d ordered.

‘So what did you find out?’ inquired Zoe, drawing the attention of Harold.

Root shrugged non-committedly.

‘Enough. Apparently, she likes chess,’ mused Root absentmindedly.

‘Chess?’

‘Mmm chess.’

‘Who are we talking about, may I ask?’ intervened Harold, somewhat lost.

‘Sameen Shaw.’

Root gave the information freely: subtlety was never her strong suit and she was more than interested in how Harold would react.

‘You found that out from her files?’

‘Emails actually: automated from the online chess site she uses to play.’

‘You gained access to her emails?’ asked Harold, somewhat outraged.

Root grinned at him.

‘Of course.’

Harold had no words.

‘I hear you’re not bad at computers yourself; don’t tell me you’ve never been tempted?’

‘No Miss Groves I tend to refrain from such action,’ condemned Harold, fixing Root with a judgmental gaze.

Root for her part struggled to restrain her reaction to the use of her name: Groves was not a name she went by these days and would have reacted in hostility had it not been for the look Zoe sent her, warning her against starting anything.  

Root settled for raising an eyebrow, swallowing her emotion.

‘Really Harold? I’m surprised you’d be so openly hypocritical.’

‘Hypocritical?’

‘Groves is not a name I use openly; you must have done your research. Call me Root.’

‘When you so blatantly enter the school mainframe Miss Groves I can’t help what I see.’

‘I thought that elegant code might be yours. Zoe mentioned your talent with computers. Tell me, what are you working on in your research?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh Harold, I’m like you: you can’t hide something like this from me. A portion of the research network far more heavily guarded than the others it would almost give me a challenge: I’m dying to see what it is.’

Harold tensed.

‘None of your business Miss Groves.’

‘Call me Root.’

Zoe quickly intervened, sensing the tension developing.

‘Root, stop pushing.’

Root looked affronted.

‘Why me? He’s the one that scanned me. He practically hacked me!’

‘While you were hacking!’ defended Harold.

‘Not you personally... not yet anyway,’ she muttered, taking a sip of wine.

Harold fixed her with a stern look meant to reprimand.

Root shrugged off her annoyance.

‘It seems Zoe undersold your talent. I must admit your code is elegant: a worthy challenge.’

‘Please don’t Miss Groves.’

‘Root,’ she insisted, bite in her tone.

John and Carter took that moment to return, arms piled high with various pizzas.

‘Delivery!’ announced Carter as Zoe made room for the boxes amongst the alcohol selection.

The pizzas were distributed, John and Carter sharing whilst Root was left to share with Zoe and Harold. Root kept her alcohol intake regulated but drank enough to feel the effects. Zoe drifted towards Carter and John, naturally preferring talk of relatively mundane things; Root and Harold decided to engage in a pleasant enough, yet charged discussion.

‘I frown upon such an invasion of privacy Miss Groves!’

Root had long ago stopped imploring him to use her name though it still threw her off balance. Whether Harold knew that or not was still up for debate, but she was content to take it as a malicious threat.

‘Then build better protection.’

‘You’re simply saying you do it because you can.’

‘That’s precisely what I’m saying.’

‘Then what’s the point?’ asked Harold, growing exasperated.

‘Does there need to be a greater goal? My mom always told me to follow my skills: I’m good with computers. I do it because it pleases me.’

‘But your work is so seamless what little I saw of it. Why not put it to something more fruitful?’

‘I utilise my talents in a way that excites me Harold.’

‘Hacking into college databases?’

‘You act as if this is the only work I’ve done. My skillset is…unique, as I’m sure yours is.’

‘The difference being I’m using mine to make a difference.’

‘Research at a college? I’m sure.’

Harold sighed and considered his next offer.

‘Come and see what I’m working on.’

Root raised an eyebrow.

‘Your code is… refined. Streamlined. Well-practiced. I could use the assistance on my project.’

‘That being…?’

‘Come to the research lab next week and I’ll show you.’

‘For protecting it so well you’re terribly flippant about offering an all access pass to someone you barely know and clearly don’t approve of.’

‘You’d only hack in anyway I presume?’

Root chuckled.

‘Perhaps we are more alike than you think Harold.’

‘I doubt it Miss Groves. Still, my offer stands.’

‘Then I’ll take it. Consider me intrigued Mr. Finch.’

She took a gulp of wine, gazing at him from across the rim of her glass.

‘And I’d appreciate if you didn’t try to enter my personal files Miss Groves between now and then,’ requested Harold as if he knew what was going through her mind.

‘You think too little of me.’

‘You should!’ interrupted Zoe, slightly more drunk than the two programmers.

‘I’m hurt.’

‘Good.’

‘So how did you two meet?’ inquired Harold, ‘Zoe mentioned you were once friends?’

‘High school,’ was all Root offered.

‘Yeah Root here was the infamous computer wiz and I the popular glamour girl. She pulled a few favours for me and I found myself taking a liking to my new business partner. Until she fucked off that is.’

‘I had places to be Morgan.’

‘And things to do yeah I know. Doesn’t stop you calling in a few favours now and then does it?’

Root grinned.

‘You know your services are appreciated.’

‘Damn right they are.’

‘So what do you do then?’ asked John, the only real words he’d uttered to her all evening.

‘This and that. Travelling, computers: that sort of thing.’

‘Follow your talents,’ saluted Zoe.

Root grinned to herself.

‘Indeed.’

The rest of the night passed amicably: Carter decided to subject the room to a viewing of _The Room_ during which Zoe passed out, John and Carter decided to leave and Root was all too happy to discuss the manipulation of data to produce a learning mind able to interpret signals and adapt accordingly.

Anything to drown out the poor excuse for a film.

Root left in the early hours of the morning, parting ways with Harold outside the building before calling a cab and heading back.

Harold Finch held interest to her and certainly possessed significant knowledge into AI developmental theory, something she herself kept an eye on. She would respect his wishes simply out of admiration for the code she had seen and her viable theory that his research would provide her something to lend her services to and entertain her mind.

For now however she was content. Zoe was more than happy to facilitate her brief integration into the college community, providing adequate distraction whilst allowing her the freedom to explore her own work, and her new target of Sameen Shaw had proved more interesting than she could ever have hoped simply from what she had read.

As the cab pulled up to her apartment complex she stepped out onto the empty sidewalk, checking the time on her phone. In 8 hours Sameen Shaw had 3 hours of Bio practical work. Root had already enrolled on the course.

It looked like this stint at college wasn’t going to be as bad as she’d feared.


	3. Volta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter this time. 
> 
> There is some mild frog dissection. Not super graphic but thought I should give you all a heads up.

The gym was practically empty as it usually was at this time, precisely the reason why Shaw favoured 6am in the morning for her daily workout routine.

As usual, it was simply her and John Reese in the small yet adequately fitted university gym.

They shared the obligatory welcome nod as she walked in, heading to the running machine to start her cardio work. She wouldn’t say she knew Reese well but they had spoken and shared coffee together, keeping each other company at the gym as they trained. Shaw liked his company: he was quiet, alert, calm, didn’t ask questions and didn’t expect to be asked in return. She might almost call them friends in a weird sort of way, this mutual understanding between them as they held unofficial press-up contests and spotted for one another. Not to mention he too was a regular at the nearby shooting range and if there was one thing they got silently competitive about, it was shooting.

John had once told Carter Shaw was like a weird sibling. Not that she would ever admit it but Shaw wouldn’t have cause to disagree. They had each other’s backs.

She almost enjoyed his comfortable presence.

They went about their business, walking together out of the gym bodies covered in sweat. Shaw slowly unbound her hands of tape as she walked.

‘We were talking about you,’ began John.

Shaw didn’t reply but he knew she was listening.

‘A girl was asking after you. Root.’

Shaw looked sharply up at John.

‘What did she want?’

He shrugged.

‘Wanted to see what Zoe had on you.’

‘And what did she have?’

‘Nothing life threatening.’

Shaw let the corner of her mouth twitch up: she prided herself on her ability to evade gossip, allowing minimal concrete facts about her to be established.

‘Root seemed pretty persistent.’

‘Anything you can tell me about her?’

‘She’s good with computers.’

Shaw grunted. She safely assumed the girl had done her research then which might explain why she was in her Chem class the other day.

‘Do you know her?’

‘Met her a couple of times. Annoying as hell.’

John chuckled.

‘You two might get along,’ he ventured.

Shaw almost snorted.

‘Sure: me and the tall chipper brunette who probably cheerleads in her spare time getting on like a dog with worms.’

John kept his grin to himself.

They reached their respective changing room doors.

‘Good luck with Root.’

Shaw didn’t say anything, opening the door with more violence than strictly necessary.

John couldn’t help but smirk: either the two women would end up fucking in the library or this was about to be the biggest showdown of the year. He’d put money on the former.

He reminded himself to call Zoe about starting up a betting pool.

 

* * *

 

Shaw shuffled into her class promptly, black coffee in hand as she took her spot at the back behind a lab desk, violently seating herself on the stool as she dumped her bag on the floor. She leant her head against the desk and groaned softly.

‘Bad day?’ chimed a voice sliding in next to her.

Shaw shot up, spinning to face the voice. Root had elegantly slid onto the seat next to Shaw, legs crossed head tilted slightly as she watched the woman. Shaw’s eyes traced the waves of brunette silk that tumbled down the side of the woman’s face and wondered how the hell someone looked so composed for an 11am biology lecture.

‘Getting worse,’ spat out Shaw looking pointedly at the woman, ‘what are you doing?’

‘Sitting of course: there are no other empty spaces.’

Shaw quickly scanned the room and gritted her teeth: of course she was right.

‘What are you doing _here_ Root?’

‘I have class.’

‘Get out’

‘I can’t this is my class Sameen,’ soothed Root, smirk ever present.

Shaw’s eyes snapped back to Root.

‘How the fuck do you know my name?’

The professor chose that moment to begin the class much to Shaw’s chagrin as she reached down to pull out her notebook.

‘I have my ways,’ whispered Root, enjoying this immensely as she fiddled with blu-tack between her fingers.

Shaw gave her the evil eye as she dutifully opened her books and looked ahead at the professor.

Root sat side on, eyes firmly on Shaw and Shaw could feel them she could feel the irritating smirk that never seemed to go away and she was just about ready to shove the stray spatula on the desk straight into the woman’s eye but instead she settled from crushing the pencil between her fingers, flesh white with pressure.

Root noticed of course but wisely said nothing, instead briefly scanning the room. Her eyes didn’t drift long.

She decided she enjoyed coaxing reactions out of Sameen Shaw: tiny ones you wouldn’t necessarily notice unless you were the sort of person to notice these things.

Preliminary business over, the class were instructed to grab a frog and conduct their relative analysis on the vascular system of the animal. Shaw couldn’t shoot up fast enough heading straight for the relevant equipment: anything to escape those eyes studying her like she was prey.

_Prey?_

Who the fuck did this Root chick think she was anyway? And why was she so infuriatingly persistent?

Speaking of persistent, Root’s ridiculously long legs brought her level with Shaw easily as she reached over to pull a lab coat from the hooks, glancing down at Shaw.

She followed, copying as Shaw grabbed safety goggles, a frog and the necessary equipment before making her way back to their bench.

Root remained silent and even kept a respectable distance as they wandered around the lab and yet Shaw still couldn’t shake of her irritation that someone was _following her_ and _watching her_ with a _ridiculously sunny disposition that needed punching in the face._

Setting up together at the bench Root positioned her frog just a little too close humming to herself as she pinned the frog down on the tray and whipped up a scalpel.

‘Sameen…’ she whispered dramatically.

Shaw didn’t respond.

‘Sameen…what are we doing?’

Shaw sighed heavily.

‘Dissecting the frog Root.’

‘Right.’

Silence. Shaw readied to make the first incision.

‘Uh...how do you do that?’

Shaw looked at Root in the corner of her eye: she looked sheepish and Shaw let the corners of her mouth turn up in amusement because clearly Root hadn’t thought this through.

‘I thought you did Biology?’

Root shrugged.

‘Mitochondria. Cell Wall. What more do you need?’

‘Yeah that’ll work. Just whisper cell structures in the dead frog’s ear and watch it come alive,’ muttered Shaw, turning her attention to her own animal before finally cutting through the amphibian skin.

Root watched as Shaw’s steady hands ran swiftly through the abdomen splicing the flesh before pinning back the skin. The confidence with which Shaw performed the prescribed actions almost had her mesmerized: the scalpel seemed so suited to the woman, so comfortable in her hands. She was precise and to the point.

She would make an excellent surgeon, mused Root.

She turned to face her own frog before copying Shaw’s actions: as steady but not nearly as precise in her unpracticed hands, having never sliced frog before. Opening the animal up she studied the contents of the chest before entertaining an utterly stupid yet remarkably inspired idea.

She quickly scanned the room and found what she was looking for. She walked over to the wall and pulled out two electrical leads before swiftly storing them in the lab coat pockets lest someone question her motives.

An electrical power pack had been left on their lab desk. Now Root wasn’t great with dead animals but electrical current she could work with, she just needed to fiddle about a bit with the frog.

Whilst Shaw carefully removed the heart, beginning an examination of said organ, Root went for something a little more ambitious. She wasn’t entirely sure how precise she would have to be but she figured exposing the limb muscle would be enough.

Fishing around in the drawers below the desk she grabbed a few paperclips, untwisted them and began winding them around the edge of the electrical leads to great make-shift electrodes: 2 paper clips to each lead bent apart to touch two limbs at once. She was pretty proud with herself.

She turned on the volt pack. She had no idea how many volts an animal needed but she figured about 70 might do it, and save her from shocking herself in this elaborate attempt to prove Sameen Shaw wrong.

‘Sameen,’ she whispered urgently, metal probes at the ready.

Shaw ignored her.

‘Sameen I did it.’

‘Did what Root?’

‘It worked.’

Shaw finally looked to her left in frustration.

‘What worked?’

She didn’t really have time to note what exactly Root had done.

Root leant down close to the frog and whispered like a caress:

‘Mitochondria,’ simultaneously prodding the metal into muscle causing light spasms to travel through the frog.

Shaw had no words.

Root was grinning, struggling to hold back laughs.

Shaw simply could not find it in herself to be angry. She was angry about being interrupted and she sort of wanted Root to shock herself simply because it would give her satisfaction but this was…impressive. It was actually rather impressive.

‘Root.’

‘Yes Sameen?’

‘What.’

Root shrugged.

‘Admit it. It’s hilarious. You want to laugh.’

Shaw ground her jaw.

‘I want you to shock yourself on those things so I can go back to work.’

‘Kinky,’ Shaw scowled, ‘but unfortunately would only render me slightly burned.’

Shaw turned back to her own dissection determined to shake off Root and ignore her before she stabbed her.

‘Hey Sameen,’

‘What?’ replied Shaw, spinning round angrily: Root was like a small child pestering her for attention.

‘It’s alliiivvvveeeee,’ she cried, continually coaxing the frog into jittering all the while laughing.

Shaw actually had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the smirk threatening to appear.

Instead she simply fixed Root with a deadpan stare.

Root simply shrugged.

‘I know you find it funny Sameen.’

‘I do not.’

‘Yes you do,’ she sung.

‘Just dissect the fucking frog Root,’ demanded Shaw before abruptly stabbing her scalpel into the webbed foot of her frog.

Root watched Shaw take a deep breathe before getting back to work, face lit with a small smirk.

 

* * *

 ‘Why am I here Root?’

‘Patience Zoe; drink your coffee.’

‘You’re on your laptop you’re not even talking to me.’

The two were sat in the window of a coffee shop, Root with her laptop open scanning whatever was on the screen whilst Zoe looked bored over her Chai Tea Latte.

‘Patience.’

Zoe huffed.

‘Okay your two o’clock. Guy, definitely works out, looks like a student but definitely isn’t.’

Zoe looked over Root’s shoulder.

‘Yeah?’

‘I need you to get me something of his.’

‘What?’

‘His security pass.’

‘That’s it?’

‘And I need you to enable the Bluetooth on his phone and jack it with the phone I gave you. I need numbers.’

‘Consider it done.’

‘Take you time.’

Zoe raised an eyebrow and stood up, game face on.

As Zoe disappeared behind her Root settled in her seat comfortably, taking a sip of her own coffee watching the screen with thought. Her opponent was good. Really good.

That would explain the permanent smile on her face as her eyes analyzed the last move.

It wasn’t often she had to think in a game of chess: most of her opponents never thought more than 2 moves ahead but Sameen Shaw knew what she was doing and she did it well.

Ridiculously well.

Root sipped her drink, carefully processing her next move. If she played it right she could win, end Shaw’s winning streak-undefeated according to her account profile-but she’d have to play to perfection.

Finally choosing her next piece Root sat back and waited, seeing what Sameen might do.

Her gaze flickered to her left repeatedly, watching as Shaw sat on her laptop, brow furrowed in concentration-or was that confusion- as she contemplated her rebuttal.

Root was careful not to draw attention to herself: she was playing a dangerous game after all and she walked a very thin line between affectionately irritating and ‘I’m going to drown you’ with Sameen Shaw, one she was growing all too aware of.

Root filed ‘playing online chess while watching you’ safely under the ‘I’m going to drown you’ heading.

Still, she never was one to back away from a challenge and Sameen intrigued her: she was cold, emotionless, smart, ruthless, to the point, diagnosed sociopath according to her file and yet she chose pre-med. She had such an extraordinary skillset rivaling Root’s own and yet never thought to put them to the same ends.

And she was hot too. Toned arms, noted Root as Shaw leant forward to type, arms exposed in the tank top she was wearing.

The move was made and Root grinned. Her victory was assured as she moved the first piece into position with swift accuracy and she noticed Shaw lean forward in suspicion at the quick retaliation.

Root had made it her first priority to study Shaw’s face. Her actions were far more frequent than her words, the small ticks in her face giving away more than the stoic gaze that seemed permanent. So Root had begun Project Shaw’s Face, which involved a lot of staring at Shaw; not that Root was under particular strain to do so.

Her gaze impassive as she leant forward over the computer screen Shaw gave nothing away, but the slight tensing she could see from even her distance away told Root all she needed to know: Shaw knew she had lost.

Shaw didn’t throw the game but didn’t mount a serious counter-attack either, resigning herself to her singular defeat.

Root was enthralled: she had a chess partner who managed to think beyond the capture of a queen and it was refreshing.

Shaw slammed her laptop closed and stood up, swinging on her jacket. As she scanned the shop her eyes met Root’s, who waved cheerfully. Shaw scowled and stalked out, not sparing Root a second glance.

Root followed the small retreating form, eyes gleaming in anticipation.


	4. Sharing is Caring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am British and therefore have no idea how New York is laid out.
> 
> Longer chapter. Shaw finds some stuff out. Root is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in wireframe glasses. The usual.

Shaw knew Root was following her. She was everywhere she looked and everywhere she didn’t and it wasn’t getting any less irritating. There was only so many times it could be brushed off as ‘happy coincidence’ when Root slid in to the seat next to her or the odd paper airplane flew her way across the lecture hall.

Shaw made it her daily mission to thoroughly ignore the woman and her grating cheerful demeanor, yet every day without fail Shaw would find herself within a 10-foot radius of Root, chipper as ever and persistent as always teasing out anger from the stoic woman to her apparent delight.

Shaw knew what she was doing, knew the woman thrived on the small attentions she managed to drag reluctant from a glaring Shaw and yet Root knew just what buttons to press to make her fists clench and her fingers itch with violence she spent a lifetime trying to suppress.

She didn’t know what Root wanted but if she carried on the way she was what she’d be getting involved a trip to the ER and health insurance.

Of course she’d tried to do her own reconnaissance on Root, but with nothing to go on but that frankly ridiculous name it had been a virtual dead end looking on the student records she had access to.  That didn’t mean she didn’t watch the woman, didn’t pick up little tells and ticks that told her enough; the way her fingers glided across her laptop with practiced ease, the way her eyes darted in every room locating, she would later determine, security cameras, phones and any other image capturing device.

Information like this she stored as she watched the woman that annoyed her so thoroughly with latent intrigue tugging at her mind.

She ignored it.

Instead she took deep, less than calming breathes as Root slid onto the wooden table Shaw sat at, pushing books and pens to the side as she crossed her legs, leaning back on her palms and looking down at Shaw with that _smirk_ that somehow possessed the singular power to turn Shaw’s day from an average 7 to a negative 12.

She didn’t look up from her notes, clenching her jaw slightly as she felt those big brown eyes bore into her head with impressive intensity.

‘Hello Sameen.’

Shaw stopped writing at the use of her first name, pen pressed into the thin paper as her knuckles shone white. Of course Root noticed eyes gleaming as she used her hand to push forward a freshly hot burrito into Shaw’s line of sight.

‘Brought you something,’ sung Root.

Shaw glanced up at the waiting food suspiciously but didn’t let it stop her pulling the meal violently closer and tucking in, suppressing a moan at the glorious refried beans chili sauce combo that seeped from the wrapping.

‘What d’ya want?’ growled Shaw in between ravenous bites.

Root’s smirk had morphed into a small smile, one that if Shaw had taken the time to look up would have had her glaring and possibly sacrificing this gorgeous burrito for the sake of wiping that smile from Root’s angular face.

‘Does there always have to be an ulterior motive?’

Shaw grunted.

‘So you just give me free food?’

‘Are you complaining?’

Shaw didn’t respond, choosing instead to violently finish the meal before pushing the wrapping away from her books and licking her fingers clean.

Root let her eyes linger on the spectacle.

She decided she liked watching Shaw eat; there was something so freeing about the way she dove head first into proffered meat. The offering had merely been an excuse to come close to the woman but Root thought she might bring sustenance for the small woman a little more often.

‘Where did you get it from?’ asked Shaw’s deep voice almost reluctantly, still not looking up at Root as she tried to focus back on her work.

‘Mmm a small place I know: expensive, but worth it.’

‘Didn’t taste like Taco Bell.’

‘Oh Sameen, surely you know me well enough by now to know that I would never eat Taco Bell.’

This time Shaw looked up at Root, taking in the smug demeanor that seemed ever present as she raised an eyebrow.

‘Taco Bell too good for you?’

‘Only the best for me,’ she sung.

Root leant closer at an odd angle trying to see what Shaw was working on.

‘Iterations. I can help with those if you’d like?’

Shaw’s attention had snapped back to her Math and she tugged her books closer towards herself in an effort to deter Root and get her firmly out of her personal space.

‘I’m fine.’

Root leant back slightly, hair hanging just in Shaw’s peripheral vision making Shaw bristle with the proximity.

‘If you’re sure, though question 3 is wrong.’

‘Shut up Root.’

‘Just trying to help.’

Shaw glared up at Root who seemed unperturbed, smiling in response. There was a muffled vibration and Root reached into the pocket of her leather jacket, fishing out her phone and scanning the screen before returning her attention to Shaw.

Shaw didn’t miss the way she frowned, eyes hardening as she read the message in just the slightest manner and Shaw wondered what it was Root did in her free time.

She convinced herself she shouldn’t care anyway so what did it matter, and returned attention to her work.

‘Well looks like our time is up,’ she informed tone ever cheerful as she hopped off the desk and straightened out her clothes.

‘I’ll see you later Sameen.’

Shaw didn’t bother responding as Root left the library. If her eyes lingered on Root’s legs just a little too long as she glanced up from her work her mind didn’t acknowledge it.

 

* * *

 

Root was almost sorry her phone had gone off when it did: she was pleasantly surprised with the almost placating effect of the burrito and, she mused, Shaw was definitely more conversational than usual.

For Shaw at least.

Still: duty calls, though she didn’t expect results quite so soon. As she made her way to Zoe’s place she scrolled through the email before deleting it entirely and locking her phone. Her schedule would have to be moved up considering the quick response but it shouldn’t be a problem.

‘Zoe! Open up!’ she yelled cheerfully, banging on the door.

‘Calm down Root I’m coming I’m coming.’

The door swung open and Zoe let her inside

‘To what do I owe the pleasure this time?’

‘Just here to collect,’ answered Root, spinning round to face the woman.

‘The key card?’

‘Please.’

Zoe went over to her side of the room rummaging in her handbag.

‘You want the phone as well?’

‘Oh yeah absolutely. Was there any trouble?’

Zoe walked over, key card and phone in either hand as she held them out for Root to take.

‘Not at all.’

Root took them, shoving them into her pockets.

‘Thanks Zoe, I do appreciate this.’

‘Yeah I’m sure. I just hope you know what you’re doing.’

Root tilted her head with a grin.

‘Of course I do.’

‘That’s sort of what I’m worried about,’ muttered Zoe. Root chose to ignore the comment, instead heading for the door.

‘Bye Zoe!’

‘Root.’

She spun round, questioning look in her eyes.

‘I’m not going to do anything like that again. Not for you. Not until you tell me what’s going on.’

Root regarded her with eyes that weren’t full of what Zoe had come to recognize within the woman: gone was the mirth and the flirtation but instead they felt cold. Something told her the moment Root saw her as a liability, a threat-prey even- she wouldn’t stand a chance.

Root nodded once curtly, forcing that grin back into place.

‘Okay.’

Root turned back to the door again ready to leave.

‘Oh and Root?’

She spun back round again.

‘Yes Zoe?’

This time Zoe greeted her with a smile.

‘We have a betting pool: though you’d want in.’

Root raised an eyebrow.

‘What for?’

‘You and Shaw.’

At that Root’s smile turned genuine.

‘What’re the odds?’

‘John and I stand at 10-1 you two get it on before the end of the year, Carter thinks Shaw will snap sometime in the final semester at odds of 13-1 and Finch is at 31-1 odds Shaw will punch you in the face before you get anywhere near to tapping that,’ rattled off Zoe with laughter in her voice.

‘Count me in. 9-1 that I manage to get her to make the first move before or during Spring Break.’

‘Done.’

The two grinned at each other before Root turned to leave.

‘Okay this time I’m actually leaving. Bye Morgan.’

‘Bye Root.’

Root waved behind her as she left, smile plastered on her face as she wondered how far she could push Sameen Shaw, before her concentration returned to business.

 

* * *

 

 

‘Got some anger to work out there Shaw?’

‘Shut up.’

Shaw fired off six more rounds into the paper target with pinpoint accuracy before reloading, not bothering to face John who stood slightly behind her.

He chuckled slightly; watching as Shaw once again aimed and shot three rounds into the chest of the paper.

They were the only ones at the indoor shooting range: a rare activity they did together as Shaw found she enjoyed proving herself better at shooting than John.

‘Something got you bothered?’ asked his calm voice with just a hint of a smirk. She spun round to face him, lowering her weapon.

‘What do you think?’

‘Root?’

‘Yes Root: she hasn’t left me alone. At all.’

‘Looks like you have yourself a stalker.’

‘An annoyingly persistent stalker who doesn’t take no for an answer.’

‘All included in the title of ‘stalker’ I think.’

‘What does she even want?’

‘Maybe she just wants to make friends?’

‘I don’t do friends,’ spit out Shaw glaring at an unaffected John: he was used to it by now.

‘Besides, what kind of friend hacks into private files?’

‘You know she did that?’

‘She’s good with computers. It’s what I’d do.’

‘I heard Harold mention something about bringing her on board with his project.’

‘Finch? The tech nerd?’

‘I think the technical term is computer programmer.’

‘Whatever. Still a nerd. Didn’t take Root to be in with Finch’s kind.’

‘She’s not. They didn’t get on very well: differing morals.’

Shaw cracked a smile at that.

‘Yeah? That I can believe.’

‘But he respects her abilities as far as I can tell and he needs a good coder to help him.’

Shaw looked down at the ground processing this information: she’d gathered Root was familiar with computers from what John had mentioned, and the way she seemed to relax behind a keyboard as her fingers tapped confidently, Shaw watching from the corner of her eye; but she never imaged she’d be Finch’s level.

Seems like Root had a few surprises of her own.

She almost smirked: she wondered what other surprises Root had? What was that about questionable morals?

Then she remembered how much Root knew about her, and that given her skills she’d probably hacked more than her college file.

She frowned.

How much did she know?

‘You gonna go Shaw or is it my turn?’

Shaw’s attention snapped up.

‘You go.’

They switched places, John readying his gun at the target and firing off a magazine.

‘You should give her a chance Shaw.’

‘Like hell I should. Her face makes me wanna punch it.’

‘That’s a good sign.’

‘How is _that_ a good sign?’

John turned his head to look at Shaw, steely eyes watching her.

‘She’s eliciting a strong reaction from you Shaw.’

Shaw scoffed.

‘She makes me angry. So what? No donuts at the bakery makes me angry that’s hardly a feat.’

John raised an eyebrow but didn’t push the matter further: they might not be close but he knew her well enough to know when to back off. Besides, he trusted Shaw knew even if she wouldn’t admit it.

And he was right. Shaw found herself grinding her jaw slightly as John turned his attention back to riddling the target with holes. He was right: this wasn’t the normal anger that flared when something blocked her path. No, Root managed to anger her…differently. Like kindling; stoking an ever-present fire constantly invading her thoughts leaving her anger raging and continuous. This wasn’t a short burst of irritation this was the long burn of fury that never seemed to dwindle.

Even now she was thinking of Root. How she angered her, how those legs seemed to go all the way up to Canada, how her hair framed that smug little face as she no doubt quipped at Shaw some phrase turned into something so seductive with that lilt in her voice.

‘Switch,’ growled Shaw.

She needed to shoot something. Bad. This kind of anger led to stupid things.  Shaw took her place, reading her gun and taking aim.

The problem with this kind of fire, she mused, was that honestly? It was kind of addicting.

She landed 6 bullets straight to center mass.

 

* * *

 

 

John had left her at the shooting range citing a summons from Carter and Shaw had happily shot several more magazines empty before deciding she was hungry and needed food.

It was dark by the time she left the shooting range and the wind was strong, catching her by surprise. She buttoned up her long black coat, shoving her hands into her pockets and heading towards her favourite 24-hour diner.

Her walk was silent as she kept her head down, passing few pedestrians in the cold night as she ignored the biting cold, instead focusing on the pile of pancakes she was most definitely going to consume.

‘Sameen?’

Shaw’s head shot up and she looked towards the source of the voice. Root stood frozen just a few feet in front of her: her voice not laced with flirtation as Shaw had become accustomed but almost surprise.

Shaw took in Root’s appearance: she was dressed as a smart business woman, wireframe glasses perched on her face hair tied loosely billowing in the wind. She decided the look was too uptight for Root: not that she didn’t pull off the sleek black pencil skirt that hugged her figure or the stylish wireframes that just ticked an extra box for Shaw, it just didn’t seem to fit with the Root Shaw knew.

‘Root.’

Shaw didn’t move. Root quickly regained herself, surprise replaced with her trademark smirk as she strode over to where Shaw stood, heels punctuating each step.

‘What are you doing here Root?’ questioned Shaw warily, guard on high alert.

Root stopped just out of reach.

‘Don’t worry Sameen, this time really was an unfortunate coincidence,’ Shaw raised an eyebrow, ‘but since I’m here: what about dinner?’

Shaw glared up at the woman.

‘No.’

Root pouted.

‘Don’t be like that Sameen. I know a lovely place we can go.’

‘No.’

‘It’s cold and I’m _sure_ you’re hungry. I certainly am.’

‘I’m not eating dinner with you.’

‘I’ll pay.’

Shaw narrowed her eyes.

‘I’ve heard it’s known for its selection of meat dishes, including its burgers,’ Root began to walk past Shaw, ‘come if you want.’

Shaw ground her jaw, weighing her options though it didn’t take long. A free meal? Who was she to pass that up?

Reluctantly she spun on her heel and caught up to Root who wore a knowing smirk. Shaw pointedly ignored Root’s gaze on her frame keeping her eyes firmly forward, glare in place.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Follow me,’ chirped Root, seemingly unaffected by the cold.

She led the way to a wealthy neighborhood; one Shaw would never usually find herself in but Root seemed to know the way.

They finally reached a small establishment that was tastefully decorated: expensive was the first word that popped into Shaw’s mind.

‘Ms. Turing,’ greeted the maître d with a big smile, ‘your usual seat?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

They were sat in a booth towards the back of the cozy restaurant with fancy furnishings and more sets of cutlery than Shaw knew what to do with. A menu was set before them and Root ordered water and two glasses of champagne.

‘I’ll take whiskey,’ interrupted Shaw.

Root smiled at her softly, glint in her eye.

Once their waiter had left Shaw began to scour the menu.

‘Turing?’ she questioned, slight amusement in her tone.

Root simply fixed her with a smile.

‘That your name?’

‘What do you think Sameen?’

Shaw looked up from her menu watching Root’s calm features, that mischievous and delighted gleam in her eyes.

‘No. It’s not.’

Root smiled.

‘In here I am Caroline Turing.’

‘Should I be calling you Caroline now?’ muttered Shaw.

‘You can call me Root.’

The table fell into silence as Shaw mulled over this information: who uses an alias to book a table?

She reminded herself she didn’t care and was only here for the free food.

She ordered the most expensive steak joint, double portion of fries, Tabasco on the side and the chocolate gateau with homemade ice cream and caramel sauce. Root didn’t even bat an eyelid as she herself ordered the standard beef burger with sweet potato fries and apple crumble. 

As the waiter left them once again Shaw found herself at the mercy of Root’s gaze.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

There was a short pause.

‘What were you doing down that part of town?’

‘What were _you_ doing?’

‘I live there Root.’

‘Perhaps so do I.’

‘You’ve brought us to the fanciest restaurant I’ve ever been in. You don’t live down my way.’

Root raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

‘So, what were you doing dressed up like the corporate slut?’

‘I love your similes. Though I’m wondering whether I should be offended.’

‘I call them as I see them,’ smirked Shaw.

Root kept her eyes on Shaw’s pondering her answer.

‘I was meeting an acquaintance.’

‘An acquaintance?’

‘He had some things he wanted to supply my boss with and I was picking them up.’

‘And what does he know you as?

Root’s mouth turned up.

‘You know which questions to ask don’t you Sameen?’

Shaw said nothing, waiting for Root to answer.

‘Veronica Sinclair.’

Shaw’s gaze never left Root’s, eyes studying furiously trying to decipher the woman and Root could feel it but she didn’t back away. Some part of her wanted Shaw to fit together the pieces: she was making it easy and she was playing a dangerous game, one she didn’t entirely know the outcome of.

‘And your boss?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Who do you work for?’

‘Mmm her name is Samantha Groves.’

She was proud of herself for that one, though the taste of her name on her tongue was foreign and unwelcome.

She took a sip of champagne.

‘Samantha Groves?’

‘Samantha Groves’ was someone she had left behind, but the way Shaw’s tongue rolled around the syllables made her double-take for just a second at what could have been: made her feel exposed.

‘What does she do?’

‘Computer things mostly.’

‘Sounds a lot like you.’

‘We’re nothing alike really.’

‘I’m sure.’

Their food arrived and Root was glad for the interruption.

She ate her own meal slowly, slicing her burger and gently munching on individual fries as her eyes kept their attention on Shaw as she attacked her food with relish, devouring each morsel and savouring each bite as Root suppressed a smile at the little groans of appreciation Shaw let slip.

Main meal finished the plates were taken and Shaw ordered another whiskey.

‘So Root.’

‘You’re talkative tonight Shaw,’ she teased.

‘I might as well get to know my stalker seeing as I don’t even know your real name,’ muttered Shaw, hiding in her drink.

‘Ask away.’

‘What do you do?’

‘I study at college.’

‘No you don’t. You never take any notes and I’ve never seen you before.’

‘You’re too observant.’

‘Bad habit.’

‘I’m staying for a few months with a friend: classes are a way to pass the time. You are a little extra.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

‘Oh?’

Root offered a smirk in response.

‘So what do you do?’

Root sighed.

‘You ask the difficult questions Sameen,’ Root glanced down at the table, ‘It’s complicated.’

Shaw scoffed.

‘That’s not an answer.’

‘I work with computers. I travel a lot.’

‘IT techs don’t travel. Nor do programmers.’

‘No.’

‘No.’

Shaw glared at Root: those brown eyes always so expressive hiding so much.

She didn’t care, Shaw reminded herself.

Shaw shrugged.

‘Fine. Don’t tell me.’

‘Just like that?’

‘You want me to keep questioning you?’ muttered Shaw.

Root smiled.

‘No Sameen. I appreciate your consideration.’

‘It’s not consideration I don’t do consideration.’

‘I know you don’t.’

Shaw’s eyes snapped up.

‘Then why are you doing this?’

‘I told you: you’re extra. Plus you’re hot Sameen.’

‘I’ll have sex with you if you want.’

‘I have no doubt.’

‘Well?’

‘Not here sweetie,’ Shaw narrowed her eyes and glared, ‘but perhaps some other time when I’m not so…busy.’

Their dessert arrived and the waiter poured Root another glass of champagne. The two ate as they spoke.

‘Busy?’

‘My boss is very demanding.’

‘I’m sure.’

The two drifted into silence. Nothing more was said. They finished and Root paid the hefty bill in cash leaving a generous tip. Shaw noted the gesture but said nothing, lulled by the whiskey settling in her stomach.

She followed Root out of the restaurant.

‘This is where we part ways I’m afraid.’

Shaw said nothing and began walking home, ignoring the gaze she felt on her back that felt just a little too intense for a woman wanting simply sex.

She shook the thought out her mind and decided instead to focus on what the woman had said. She had a name-Samantha Groves- and if she could find the boss she could find out who Root really was.

The rage fueled by the woman was joined by something, something Shaw craved: excitement.

Root was something different; she didn’t belong here just like her. She was annoying, stubborn and infuriating: all the things that made her want to snap her neck, but Root promised her something more.

Root was most probably highly dangerous and Shaw wanted in.  


	5. The Invisible Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An interim chapter of sorts. 
> 
> AI and computers I am not an expert on so once again, please feel free to correct mistakes I'm pretty much reading wikipedia and a few books I have lying around.

Her meeting with Elias had gone as expected. The young mob outcast building up his empire was more than happy to supply her with what she needed: 4 unregistered handguns, a little bit of C4 and about 10 grams of pure grade cocaine.

Still, she hated dealing with such things in person: it posed a danger to her identity and had a tendency to go wrong. There was a reason she was good at what she did and one of those reasons was her anonymity: she left no trace whether that be in the system of a laptop or with the people she met. Lucky for Elias he seemed not to want to pry, accepting quite easily her cover as Veronica Sinclair.

Root kicked off her heels as she entered her apartment, goodies safely hidden in her oversized yet fashionable handbag. She placed it down on the kitchen counter before stripping and heading to the shower. The water scalded her skin-a bad habit from long ago- and she felt her muscles relax as she shed her skin for the day, burned off and dripping from her shoulders as her head fell against the tile wall.

She didn’t dwell. She showered; mind focusing on the task ahead mentally cataloguing items still to take care of, those already dealt with and possible outcomes.

Stepping out into the steaming bathroom she dried her hair roughly with a towel, wrapping another around her body before padding out and pulling on a baggy t-shirt and shorts.

Tying up her wet knotted hair she opened up her bag of goodies, carefully inspecting each item before placing them lightly on the granite top. The guns she hoped wouldn’t be necessary, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared she mused as she stored two of the guns in the drawer of her bedside table, placing the other items in a black duffel at the top of her wardrobe and pushing the bag to the back.

Clambering into bed she switched off the lights before lying on her back, eyes to the plain ceiling tracing something non-existent.

There was one variable in her calculations she couldn’t account for: one thing she couldn’t predict.

She shifted onto her side, pulling her duvet close as she closed her eyes mind still working: she had told Shaw a dangerous amount of information on a hunch. A well informed hunch but a hunch nonetheless.

 She didn’t so much regret her earlier words as wonder why she said them. She should perhaps never have mentioned her true name, but she had thrown Shaw a bone.

What she did with it was up to her.

 

* * *

 

 The sun shone through the thin curtains covering Shaw’s only window as she sat at her computer. She pushed her hands through her hair, leaning back into her chair with a frown on her face.

Her eyes remained fixed on the gentle glow of the screen, dusted with exhaustion as her mind ran with a thousand other possible explanations than the one that stood before her because there was no way she was actually living in some Alias-type world in which you actually had dangerous, hunted cyber-fugitives secretly attending college.

And yet the information was there. Or what she could find anyway.

Following her spontaneous dinner with Root she’d returned to her apartment and searched Samantha Groves. She wasn’t a hacker or particularly tech savvy in fact, she couldn’t code to save her life and had never bothered to try but she figured Google was a good place to start.

Page 7 of her search and she had begun to give up, before an article caught her eye: Girl Missing. Hannah Frey from Bishop, Texas. There was a small reference, almost insignificant but Shaw caught it: ‘ _friend Samantha Groves (13) alerted local forces to the disappearance after witnessing Miss Frey get into the car of an unknown male as she left the local library.’_

Shaw had swiftly narrowed down her search to the small town of Bishop, Texas and found only brief further mentions of ‘Samantha’: a high school year book, science fair winner, library volunteer, ‘ _star student Sam Groves will be leaving us this year to finish her studies in New York following the untimely death of her mother earlier this year. We wish her the best of luck for the future.’_

Then: nothing.

No references anywhere: Samantha Groves disappeared after apparently finishing her tenure in Bishop. Annoyingly she could find no clues as to where precisely Root had gone to ‘finish her studies’ except a small blog entry.

Page 20 of her Google search for ‘Samantha Groves, Root, Texas, New York, High School’ and she stumbled across an entry for an online blog dating from around the time Root would have been finishing High School:

‘ _And yesterday Root (this girl in my year that kind of just keeps to herself and doesn’t have any friends tbh though with a name like that it’s not surprising right?) actually did something really cool. According to Zoe Morgan when she dared Root to hack into something bigger than the school network literally from her lunch table she altered the scoreboard of the huge ass baseball game going on to show a giant pixelated version of Zoe’s face. Apparently today she got arrested, which is probably the most exciting thing to happen in this place in forever and it was done by the resident nerd.’_

The rest was nonsense but now Shaw knew were to start looking: Zoe Morgan. Not caring for the ridiculous hour she had phoned John and gotten Zoe’s number before ringing the woman who was conveniently up studying for her exams, the thought briefly crossing Shaw’s mind that she should have been doing the same thing. With some good old-fashioned Shaw coercion and some light bartering (‘Tell me what I need to know Morgan and I’ll tell you something about me.’

‘One thing?’

‘One thing. Take it or leave it.’

‘Anything I want?’

‘Yes.’)

Zoe told her what she knew.

And that left Shaw sat at her desk running her hands through her hair struggling to understand the pieces she had been given but pretty sure Root was some for of cyber criminal. Or just plain criminal from what Zoe had said.

She didn’t have much to offer on the final High School years, only that their friendship was at first largely functional, that Root was ridiculously wealthy from what she could see and that she was also insanely smart. She had left without so much as a word abruptly before she had officially finished her studies and was never seen or heard from again. What interested Shaw was the errands Root had Zoe running:

_‘I’d heard nothing. Then out of the blue I get an email, second year of college from an unknown account. It’s Root asking for a favour; wants me to go hook up with this guy going to a gallery opening to get him out of the way. I do it; then next day I see $10,000 wired to my account and a picture of the shares relating to that same gallery attached. They’d dropped exponentially. I guess it was her way of saying thank you.’_

_‘She ever ask for something like that again?’_

_‘Recently. Look Shaw why are you asking?’_

_‘I’m interested. Not gonna rat her out to the FBI if that’s what you mean.’_

_‘The other day. She asked me to get this guy’s security card and ‘jack his phone with this phone she gave me.’_

_‘Why?’_

_‘She didn’t tell me.’_

_‘Okay.’_

The call had ended soon after that and Shaw was left with a tangle of events that somehow formed a bigger picture that she couldn’t see. Root was good with computers, had a lot of money and was probably for hire. But what the hell was she doing at college and what the fuck was she planning?

Shaw sighed and stood up, heading towards the shower. She could worry about that later. Root wasn’t important. She had a class at 10 and an essay to write: Root could wait.

 

* * *

 

 For the first time in a long time Root was nervous.

Nervous was such a strong word but as she walked into her next class with Shaw it was the only word she could think of that might describe the way her legs felt slightly hesitant entering the lecture hall as she paused slightly, taking a deep breath before walking through the door.

Her eyes quickly found Shaw, legs already leading her to the back row where she knew Shaw usually sat. She made an effort to keep her eyes down on the floor watching her feet take each step as Shaw’s own eyes bore into her figure.

She took the empty seat next to Shaw, spine straight and facing forward, hands resting on the table.

She could feel the heat of Shaw’s gaze itching at her face waiting impatiently for something: a reaction from Root. Either that or she was just being paranoid.

The professor took center stage and Shaw finally shifted her gaze to the front. Root let her shoulders droop slightly and leant back from the desk. She had nothing to occupy neither her hands nor her mind as the words of the lecture drifted just outside her attention.

The silence between the two was stagnant; an elephant in a crowded room and Root wasn’t quite sure who could see it.

She glanced at Shaw from the corner of her eye: her books were closed pen flitting between her figures dangerously fast. Root’s eyes tracked the movement.

Shaw stood up abruptly and left the room, pen still swimming between her fingers.

Root waited until Shaw had disappeared from sight before standing up in a slightly less aggressive manner and slowly made her way out of the lecture hall. Her low boot heels clicked on the linoleum of the corridor as she approach the restroom where she presumed Shaw had gone.

She pushed open the swinging door with a lot more confidence than she felt, smirk perfectly in place as Shaw’s scowling face stared her down.

‘Why do we instinctively know to come to the toilets? Is it a girl thing?’ mused Root lightly, leaning casually against the tile wall.

‘What the _fuck_ Root?’ spat out Shaw, fist clenching her pen like a lifeline.

Root’s smirk faded slightly but she shrugged nonchalantly.

‘What did I do this time?’

‘ _I don’t know_.’

Root raised an eyebrow.

‘You better start fucking talking _right now_ I swear to god.’

Shaw took a few intimidating steps forward. Root’s eyes scanned the stalls, trailing the ceiling corner to corner. Shaw didn’t break eye contact with Root as she walked towards the sinks and took a deep breath making eye contact with Shaw through the mirror.

‘It’s...complicated.’

‘Wanna consult your _boss_ about it?’

Root sighed.

‘What do you know?’

‘I know you’re not who you say you are. I know you’re some kind of fucking criminal to be hauling around cash like that. You don’t _exist_ Root.’

Root spun round and sauntered forward.

‘I assure you I’m exactly who I say I am.’

Stepping into Shaw’s personal space, Shaw pulled the woman closer roughly before spinning and pushing her into the wall hard, arm pressed against her throat.

‘Don’t fuck with me Root. Samantha. Whoever the fuck you are because I do not like games.’

‘Sameen-‘

Shaw pushed against her throat harder and Root swore she heard a low growl. Combined with the intense eyes and the breath tickling her lips Root was struggling to focus: if she weren’t such a professional she probably would have forgotten to press her small flick knife into Shaw’s left kidney.

They stayed pressed together for several tense seconds, room silent but for the piercing buzz of the electric lights, the slow breathing of the two women eyes hard and challenging.

Shaw was impressed in some dark corner of her mind the moment she felt the sting of a knifepoint reflexively keeping her at bay and Root swore she saw a flicker of the thrill as Shaw pulled away with rapid speed, eyes firmly on Root.

Root let a smirk creep up onto her face.

‘My name is Root,’ she intoned lightly, flicking shut her knife and sliding it into the pocket of her leather jacket.

Shaw’s glare dared her to move and she did, taking the two short steps that brought her just out of reach of Shaw.

‘Fine. Root.’

‘Come to my place.’

Shaw’s glare turned murderous and Root chuckled.

‘Don’t worry it’ll be just us girls. Tomorrow. 6pm. Bring wine.’

Root shouldered past towards the door, Shaw’s eyes following her every step.

‘Where do you live?’ asked Shaw reluctantly.

Root stopped, hand resting on the door.

‘Tomorrow Sameen. I’ll see you around.’

Root strode from the room and Shaw violently suppressed any notions of enjoyment, the sparks of adrenalin nursing the thing she craved mixing with that _fucking anger_.

The pen snapped in half and Shaw opened her fist. It clattered the floor.

Root wanted to play games?

Like hell she was going to play.

 

* * *

 

 ‘Hey Harry!’

Harold Finch turned his head, as he stood hunched over one of the numerous laptops scattering the small room.

‘Ms. Groves: I trust you had no trouble finding this place?’

Root sauntered over as Harold stood straight.

‘Not at all. So,’ Root scanned the room briefly, taking note of the layers of chord and three independent servers hiding behind mountains of papers, ‘what I am here for?’

‘Yes well, ‘ Finch turned back to his computer inputting a few swift commands as he spoke, ‘as you can see I have a little project I’m attempting and I believe I could use your assistance, despite our somewhat unharmonious opinions.’

‘Mmmm?’

Root leant over Harold’s shoulder.

‘Is that…?’

‘My code.’

They both straightened up, Root’s mind running with a thousand possibilities.

‘It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen,’ she breathed out.

‘It’s something I’ve been developing for some time with my research grants.’

‘What I saw when I was in the system: that was…’

The question was evident in her voice.

‘Of a sorts. A variation: what you see here is, shall we say, the primordial soup? The basis: a mix of everything I have achieved thus far from the scraps of what we already know.’

Root took a few slow steps towards the open monitor. Harold watched with apprehensive eyes as she extended her hands almost tentatively towards the keyboard.

‘Can I?’

Harold nodded acquiescence.

Root’s eyes studied the screen, scouring every line as quickly as she could typing in inputs every so often, bringing up windows and files and lines and lines of elegant code.

‘This is…something else Harry. I presume I’m currently in your secure network? Of course. You wouldn’t want something like this floating around that was silly of me.’

‘Indeed.’

Root stood up.

‘Your code, what you’ve created is…flawless. Elegant in design: precise.’

‘Compression.’

‘I understand the need for conciseness perhaps to increase speed but what you’ve done would allow for huge increases in data flow. In what could be processed.’

‘That is the aim. I have aimed to create something impenetrable, a closed system of sorts, and something that can process something…new. That can remember.’

‘AI.’

‘Yes Ms. Groves. My research is centered on a learning machine. Something that can not only learn but remember, that can decide based not solely on direct input but the collection of limited data it has been given: posterior probabilities.’

Root was no longer smirking or playful: her mind was running at an alarming rate grasping upon ideas and chucking them aside as Harold explained his vision.

‘I understand. This code you’ve created is to facilitate this.’

‘Precisely.’

‘Then what do you need me for?’

‘I need your assistance. The code is effective but the data it carries is-‘

‘Imperfect.’

Root tilted her head.

‘Exactly.’

Root smiled, eyes glinting with pure delight.

‘You’ve surprised me Harry.’

Finch’s brow furrowed.

‘Ms. Groves?’

But her attention was elsewhere. She had already pulled over the nearby office chair, fingers already dancing over the keyboard.

‘Grab a chair Harry. We have work to do.’


	6. Interview with a Morally Dubious Employer

Trailing Root- Samantha-whoever the fuck she was, at 1am on a cold Friday night was the last thing Shaw wanted to be doing. But, the gauntlet had been thrown and she was damn well going to pick it up.

Still, Root-or Samantha- had been in Harold’s mysterious locked lab until _1am_ and Shaw was beginning to wonder whether she’d done it on purpose because that was definitely something the woman would do just so she would have to trail her in the cold, dark early hours of a Friday morning through the city to what Shaw would describe as a ‘fancy as fuck’ apartment building.

It had a doorman for Christ’s sake. Who has a doorman?

Getting in was the easy part (long black coats, an air of confidence and a glare that could fell a small mountain really did work wonders) but finding the right apartment required actual investigation.

She wandered over to the reception area glancing at the copper mailboxes hoping to find a name she recognized.

‘Sameen,’ sung a voice far too close behind her, ‘it’s rude to invite yourself you know. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow.’

Shaw tensed as Root appeared beside her, grin wide as ever. Shaw didn’t bother looking at her.

‘I was going to let you work it out for yourself but I figured you needed congratulating for following me this far,’ hummed Root.

Shaw frowned and Root chuckled at her discomfort: she was sure Root hadn’t seen her.

‘Come on. It’s late but I have some food in; I don’t suppose you brought the wine I asked for?’ asked Root as she began to lead the way to a nearby elevator.

‘No.’

Shaw didn’t say a word as Root led her through the luxurious building, eyes cataloguing every detail and wondering just how the hell Root afforded this. Then she remembered Root’s probably some criminal mastermind and this was probably bought with laundered money from a contract killing and it makes just a little bit more sense.

‘Holy shit,’ whistles Shaw appreciatively as she steps into Root’s apartment.

‘Glad you like it.’

Shaw takes a few experimental steps, eyes fixing on the electronics littered around, the bookshelf, and the apparent lack of personal effects. It looks sparse but enough to make it seem as if the person living here had done so for years. It was probably arranged on purpose, thought Shaw.

‘Okay I have pasta, some ham and maybe some Doritos… or we could just order takeout,’ called Root, her head in the fridge.

Shaw was still on high alert, body rigid. She didn’t move from her spot by the door and simply watched as Root stood up. Root, unperturbed by the apparent lack of answer, picked up her phone from the table.

‘Take out it is. Pepperoni okay?’

‘Jalepenos and mushrooms too,’ added Shaw.

Well, it was free food after all.

Root smirked and began ordering as Shaw slowly walked her way around the space, stopping by the bookcase fingers running over the spines of novels. Some looked new-probably bought for effect- but a few looked old: worn, like they’d been opened one too many times.

‘Should be here in 45,’ Root said, sitting herself down on the couch and watching as Shaw inspected her belongings. The silence hung over them like a cloak but Root seemed content to ignore its disturbing atmosphere, watching as Shaw struggled with it.

Eventually Shaw broke and turned to speak, but Root beat her to it.

‘Sit. Please. We might be here for a while.’

‘I’d rather stand thanks.’

Shaw was still tense, body angled towards the door.

‘I promise I’m not going to kill you and nothing is going to happen. I won’t even hurt you unless…well, unless you ask.’

The invitation in her tone was unmistakable and Shaw’s fists clenched in the pockets of her coat.

Root recognized the flash of danger. She had been watching the woman with rapt attention after all: had come to know her intimate reactions that gave just a little of what she was thinking away.

‘Suit yourself,’ she paused, struggling to find the words before sighing, ‘I suppose this is inevitable. Where do you want me to begin?’

‘How about from the beginning? That usually works fine,’ spat out Shaw, eyes trained on the woman.

‘I…’ Root thought about how to phrase this, ‘I’m a thief. I mean, I’m what you would call a thief.’

‘A thief?’

‘A cyber thief: I steal information and…sometimes money.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow at Root’s unapologetic tone.

‘You steal money?’

‘I work the stocks too. It’s really quite easy. The tricky part is being good. And…not getting caught,’ Root smirked and Shaw had a sneaking suspicion Root was proud of herself for that. Not that Shaw wasn’t just a little bit impressed; she knew she should be horrified, that she should walk away now and turn Root in, that she should be yelling, but honestly she was definitely intrigued. And her curiosity outweighed her duty to society.

‘You’ve never been caught?’

Root’s smirk widened.’

‘Really Sameen, I thought you knew me better than that.’

Shaw could feel her muscles twitching, itching to break into a grin but she stayed firm.

‘And what do I call you? Samantha?’

‘No.’

Root’s reply was immediate and firm. Shaw nodded once and Root for her part almost felt touched at Shaw’s immediate acceptance of the fact.

‘Okay then Root.’

Root tilted her head a little, looking up at Shaw’s slightly more relaxed posture.

‘You’re remarkably calm for someone who’s just been told they’ve been in close proximity to a federally wanted criminal.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

‘Well you didn’t tell me you were wanted by the FBI; that changes everything,’ Shaw’s deadpan tone did nothing but amuse Root, ‘besides, it’s not like you’ve told me you murdered you uncle and fed him to sharks or something,’ shrugged Shaw moving to sit down beside Root, perching on the other end of the couch.

Root watched Shaw carefully.

‘And if I had killed someone? Had arranged someone’s death?’

Shaw turned to look at Root with sharp eyes.

‘Are you going to kill me?’ grunted out Shaw after a long pause.

Root let the corners of her mouth curl up.

‘Not yet.’

Shaw liked that. She shouldn’t like that but she did. She liked that Root wouldn’t compromise herself for Shaw.

She offered a predatory grin in response.

‘Then we don’t have a problem.’

 

* * *

 

‘So he shot you?’ asked Shaw through a mouthful of pizza as she struggled to shovel in a straggling piece of pepperoni.

Root nodded lightly, eating her pizza with significantly more decorum.

‘It was meant to be an easy job but he made it complicated. So naturally I crippled his entire firm’s software system causing untold financial losses and his share price plummeted. I made a decent amount from that crash too,’ she added as an afterthought, grinning at Shaw who continued to eat.

‘Sounds like he deserved it.’

‘Oh he did. Only he didn’t think so, especially when he found out what happened to his systems.’

‘So how did he find out it was you if you’re _so_ good at what you do?’ asked Shaw.

And Root clearly was good, tales of her exploits said as much and honestly it had Shaw impressed just how many moves ahead this woman was but she wasn’t about to admit that.

Root raised an eyebrow.

‘It’s not that much of leap to make: person breaking into your secure office building in Berlin might also have used that time to access the secure mainframe and plant a worm that would cause the eventual crash of the entire system. I did also have a backdoor in there but unfortunately the authorities found it when they swept the system.’

‘Can’t that be traced back to you?’

‘Not when it’s done by me.’

‘Of course,’ grunted Shaw, reaching for another slice of her really _really_ great pizza. This was not the cheap stuff she ordered but she wasn’t about to ask where it came from or offer to pay for hers, and Root seemed content to let it lie.

‘So anyway, I crash his system _after_ being shot which I think is a perfectly valid reason to hack a mainframe and head back to the US thinking it’s all fine. I get paid and everything’s good.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘Well what I didn’t anticipate was…connections. I knew all about Decima and their dealings with the government-they have their hands in a ridiculous number of proverbial cookie jars- but I might have _overlooked_ personal relationships.’

‘So what you’re saying is you fucked up.’

Root pouted.

‘That’s so harsh Sameen. I slipped up. It shouldn’t even have factored into the equation.’

‘So you got cocky.’

‘No that’s not-that’s irrelevant. It’s irrelevant why it happened-‘

‘Sure. Just admit you fucked up Root.’

Shaw was happily munching on her pizza as Root grew more infuriated.

‘This is irrelevant to the story okay? It doesn’t matter. What does matter is the head of Decima, my lovely friend Mr. Greer, has a contact in the FBI. He tipped the FBI off and now they have a taskforce looking for me.’

Root almost sounded flattered and Shaw rolled her eyes.

‘So that’s why you’re at college?’

‘For now. Why, did you think I just enjoyed your company that much?’ teased Root, keen to turn the tables on Shaw’s apparent glee at her failings.

‘No. I think you’re a pain in the ass.’

‘You flatter me.’

They fell back into silence, Root hesitantly picking at her pizza watching as Shaw tore into hers with as much gusto as any other thing she ate: like it was her last meal.

Shaw licked her fingers as she finished their early morning meal, reaching for the beer Root had ordered for her.

‘So. Why are you telling me all this?’

Root tilted her head in question.

‘Don’t play dumb. You don’t stay hidden without being good at what you do and if I were you I wouldn’t speak a word of who I was. To anyone. In fact, I’d probably avoid being seen at all. So. Why are you telling me?’

‘Sameen you hold me in such high esteem.’

‘I don’t play games Root,’ growled Shaw, ‘you’ve taken a risk- a stupid one at that- by telling me. So. Why?’

Root straightened up and lost her playful demeanor. Shaw felt the shift but kept her face neutral.

‘I want you to work for me.’

It hung in the air between them, Root fixing Shaw with a steady unyielding gaze and Shaw was hit with the empty realization that she knew nothing of Root. That Root was in a whole other league to her and had been for a while. She realized that she might just be out of her depth, and Root was dragging her further into the deep end.

Shaw didn’t answer, so Root continued.

‘I have a plan and I need help. I don’t usually meet with my hired hands so you can consider yourself honoured,’ Root flashed her a grin, thoroughly insincere, that disappeared as soon as it had appeared, ‘but the situation requires something…new.’

‘New?’

‘My usual methods won’t work this time I need something more…direct.’

‘And that’s where I come in?’

‘If you agree of course.’

Shaw put down her beer.

‘You have contacts. Contact them.’

‘As you can see Sameen I’m in a little bit of a predicament and I don’t particularly want to draw attention to myself by using my usual channels.’

‘So you think it’s okay to just what, ask an almost stranger to help you murder someone?’

‘I didn’t say you would kill anyone. I am prepared to make your terms of hire a little…different.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow and Root continued.

‘You will have free range to handle the tasks in whatever manner you see fit. So long as the objective is completed to my specifications.’

‘A polite way of saying you only have to kill if it comes to that,’ muttered Shaw.

Root smiled.

‘Exactly.’

Shaw gauged Root: she looked older than her years and Shaw was distinctly aware that she was in a very precarious position.

‘What makes you think I won’t go running to the feds?’

‘You told Zoe you wouldn’t.’

Shaw’s body tensed.

‘You hacked me?’

Root didn’t answer but gave her a condescending look and Shaw shook her head, body relaxing only a little.

‘Of course you did.’

Shaw thought. Didn’t say a word.

‘You should play poker.’

Shaw’s eyes darted to Root, who smirked.

‘You have a great poker face.’

‘Struggling to read me?’

‘Not that good.’

‘Fine. Say I agree to this-which I won’t- what do you need me to do?’

‘I’ll tell you when you agree.’

‘So now you’re being cautious.’

‘I am always cautious. I would never have asked you if I didn’t think you would agree.’

‘I won’t,’ growled Shaw, ‘you’re asking me to shoot someone.’

‘Actually that’s not strictly true. You don’t _have_ to kill anyone.’

‘Root. Whatever you have planned, it won’t be legal.’

‘Absolutely not.’

She said it with such glee that Shaw struggled not to break out into a smile herself. Even she couldn’t deny the thought thrilled her. And Root knew that.

‘I know you’re going to say yes Sameen.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I’ve read your files. I know everything there is to know about you Sameen. I know where you went to school, I know you have a 4.5 GPA but that you don’t have to do much to get that. I know you spend time in the library not because you’re working but because it’s silent and away from people. I know about your trip to a psychologist when you were 19 after your anti-social behavior grew too obvious to ignore and I know you have an Axis-II personality disorder. I also know that you go to the shooting range almost 4 times a week and stay there for hours on end and that your shooting skills are quite frankly masterful. And I know that you’ll jump at any chance to put those skills to use.’

Root reeled off the information as if this was a casual discussion but the underlying threat was unmistakable. Root knew everything and Shaw was entirely not comfortable with that.

‘Stop,’ she hissed and Root did, watching her with those brown eyes she thought she understood.

Root said nothing more and waited, watching as Shaw’s anger burned. This could go either way, she mused, but she was pretty sure it would end in her favour.

‘You forgot something,’ said Shaw finally, voice low and menacing.

‘Oh?’

‘You don’t want me because I’m skilled, or because I don’t mind violence. You want me because I’m the only person you know who won’t have a problem with what you’re doing,’ affirmed Shaw, tone level.

Root laughed.

‘See? I knew you were a good choice.’

‘I don’t have a choice,’ she growled.

‘You do. Just not a good one. I think you know what has to happen if you say no.’

Shaw grunted.

‘And that won’t happen if I say yes?’

Root shrugged.

‘That’s a risk you’re going to have to take Sameen.’

Shaw clenched her jaw but said nothing. There was nothing she could do.

‘Fine.’

Root broke out into a grin and fell back into her lazy persona, eyes wide open all over again but Shaw never let herself relax. She had understood nothing and she wasn’t entirely sure what had her more pissed off: not seeing this coming, or that she had been played to perfection.

‘Great! As you’re working for me I’ll of course pay you for each job and because I like you so much I’m giving you a certain…lee-way with regards to the contract. You do what I want you to when I ask for it. Complete the job in whatever manner you want.’

‘Fine.’

‘But I’d like to think of us more as equal partners than subordinate and master.’

Shaw scoffed.

‘Right.’

‘I would appreciate your input Sameen after all, this is not my usual method of working.’

‘I’m sure you have it all planned out.’

‘Oh Sameen: I always have a plan.’

Shaw stood up, taking her beer with her and went to put on her boots. Root watched her as she laced the black combats and pulled on her coat, finishing her beer in one swing.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow Root.’

‘I’ll call you,’ shot back Root and Shaw’s scowl deepened as she yanked open the door with force and slammed it shut.

Root chuckled to an empty room before standing up and tidying the remnants of their meal.

 

* * *

 

Shaw hit the bag again. And again. And again. Each time with more fury than the last. Her anger never dissipated fueling each strike, the bag barely having time to swing as she stuck repeatedly arms burning with exertion but she wasn’t about to stop.

Root. Root. Root. Each strike brought another iteration of her name and Shaw grew steadily more unstable: she was the catalyst, and Shaw was all about the reaction.

She gave the bag a final hit before stepping back wiping her forehead with her equally sweat-coated arm, breathing deeply before righting herself and restarting her assault on the heavily abused piece of gym equipment.

Root. Root. Root.

She had no choice. Employed by Root to what? Kill people? Maim them? At her beck and call? _That_ was the thought that irked her most. She had no problem with shooting, or even using her considerable brawling skills to critically wound but being at the behest of Root? _That_ was unacceptable. And she had no choice.

And she would probably wind up dead. Or in prison.

And yet…she would have said yes.

Root. Root. Root.

She would always have said yes. She was the reaction and she needed a catalyst and Root was the fire and damn it.

Root. Root. Root.

She didn’t like being at such a disadvantage. Didn’t like it that someone knew so much about her, that she was at someone’s _whim_ but the offer was too tempting. It appealed to her, the desire for thrill and something more than papers and books and normalcy. She didn’t like it anyway. She wanted to do something…different.

Root. Root. Root.

Root was like her. Root was better than her. Shaw was angry. She knew the danger and yet even with the knowledge that Root would kill her in a heartbeat to protect herself she couldn’t help but feel the energy coil it’s way through her muscles even now as she pounded the bag ferociously.

She’d take that risk and she’d learn and then, she would beat Root at her own game.

Root was good.

Shaw would learn to be better.

 

Root. Root. Root.


	7. Let's Exchange Numbers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the delay in chapter release I've been a little busy. Not that my update schedule has been anything close to regular. 
> 
> Anyone who has ever engaged in the 'cavemen v astro' argument will attest it can get pretty heated. Credits to Joss Whedon for destroying friendships and starting fights.
> 
> Let's meet the big bad shall we? Or is Root the big bad? I can't remember.

‘It’s instinct, a primal need.’

‘And we’ve evolved since then!’

‘The instinct still serves a purpose!’

‘What, running head on just to get killed?’

‘Why would they get killed your people are in fucking space suits. What’re they gonna do? Fumble away? Plus we have terrain advantage.’

‘But we have logical thought! Communication!’ argued Carter in an angry whisper.

‘So do we just not as sophisticated,’ pointed out John.

‘Grunts maybe effective communication for you and Shaw but Fusco and I need something a little clearer: more _precise_ so we can _strategize_ and claim _victory_ ,’ hissed Carter.

‘It’s just as effective,’ added Shaw, ‘just because you need to draw an elaborate plan in the dirt with a stick which you won’t have time to do when we hunt you down.’

‘Okay but we have weapons,’ pointed out Fusco, pleased with himself.

‘What no,’ hissed Shaw, rounding on Fusco and getting annoyingly riled up by this conversation, ‘you can have whatever’s on your spacesuit.’

‘Which would include a laser gun.’

‘Lionel in what world do astronauts have laser guns?’ asked John lightly in a distinctly condescending manner.

‘Well ours are from the future.’

Shaw shot him a glare and John raised an eyebrow.

‘Not part of the rules.’

‘Well then how come you guys get sticks and clubs?’

‘Because Fusco,’ placated John, ‘cavemen generally have sticks.’

‘And astronauts do not have laser guns,’ asserted Shaw, glaring at Fusco.

‘But then we’re at an inherent disadvantage!’ argued Carter, outraged at the apparent injustice.

‘Which is why cavemen would win.’

The group sat in the library sharing a table, arguing in hushed tones that one would be forgiven for thinking was regarding something important.

Shaw had been reluctant to join the study group but John had insisted due to her apparent prowess at chemical equations and Shaw was quite happy to calmly lend her services. That was, until John had posed the delicate question. Who would win in a fight: Cavemen or Astronauts?

Things had gotten out of hand.

‘The cavemen would not win! It’s just not logical!’

Carter’s voice was slowly rising and Shaw would have been lying if she didn’t take some pleasure from riling the woman up.

‘We have the strategic advantage,’ commented Shaw lightly.

‘If we had laser guns like we’re meant to we would win,’ accused Fusco.

‘When you show me an astronaut with a laser gun you can have the laser guns,’ declared John with finality.

The table went silent to the relief of many nearby library goers as John looked smug and Carter fixed him with a stern glare.

‘Looks like someone isn’t getting any tonight,’ muttered Shaw close to his ear and he swatted her away as she cackled, earning her a glare from the table next to them. She swiftly returned the gesture and they looked away, busying themselves with their books.

Shaw’s phone buzzed on the table disturbing everyone within a 100 foot radius and John smirked as she flipped off a few of the braver students that dared to quiet her.

‘What?’ she hissed into the phone not checking the number.

 _‘Hello to you too Sameen,_ ’ sung the chipper voice on the other end.

‘Root.’

She managed to make the name sound accusatory, as if everything was her fault. The others turned curiously at the use of the woman’s name. She glared at each of them in turn for good measure before standing up and heading for an abandoned aisle of the library.

‘What do you want?’ she all but stage-whispered.

_‘Can’t I just ring to say hi? Isn’t that what friends do?’_

Shaw could hear the pout.

‘No. What do you want? And we’re not friends.’

Root sighed dramatically.

 _‘Well sorry to interrupt what I’m sure has been a very productive library session,’_ Root trailed off and Shaw scowled at the implication, _‘but I have a job for you.’_

Shaw stood straight, tensing at the words and lowering her voice to perhaps a level more suited for the library.

‘What kind of job?’

Root hummed lightly and Shaw could almost picture the woman gazing casually at her pitch-black nails, spinning her hand around to see from all angels as if she were making a casual call about the weather.

Which, supposed Shaw, was exactly what this was to her.

 _‘Wear something black,’_ Shaw scoffed, _‘and be at my apartment in half an hour.’_

‘Anything else?’

_‘A double shot macchiato?’_

Shaw hung up scowling, restraining the growl that inched it’s way up her throat at the woman’s audacity.

Shaw made her way back to the table as John vehemently defended their corner. He turned to look at her as she packed up her limited study materials.

‘Going so soon?’

‘Well this isn’t exactly productive.’

The group watched her as she swung her bag over her shoulder and walked away.

John turned to his companions.

‘Cavemen would win.’

 

* * *

 

Shaw entered the apartment not bothering to knock.

‘What do you want?’

Root’s head popped up from behind the side of her bed and a smile grew on her face.

‘Hey Sameen,’ she all but sung as she stood up, placing two handguns upon her bed sheets.

Shaw’s eyes fixed upon the weapons.

‘My gift to you,’ explained Root.

‘I don’t want them.’

Root pouted.

Shaw glared.

‘Fine.’

Root grinned.

Shaw walked over to the bed, picking up one of the guns and inspecting it.

‘I knew you’d see it my way,’ sung Root, coming round to stand behind her.

‘Two guns? Really?’

‘You might need them.’

‘This is not fucking _Die Hard_ Root,’ dismissed Shaw, tucking her singular weapon into the waistband of her jeans.

‘So. What do you want?’

Shaw turned to face Root who was decidedly closer to her than she would have liked. Not that she gave any inclination to the fact.

‘I love it when you talk business,’ crooned Root, moving to her wardrobe and rummaging around in the back.

‘I have a meeting in about an hour,’ she explained to the wardrobe as Shaw watched her find what she was looking for.

Root turned around, brown envelope in her hand.

‘Only I don’t like meetings. They’re boring. So you’re going to go instead.’

‘What kind of meeting?’

‘You ask all the right questions.’

Root walked forward handing Shaw the envelope. She opened it and flicked through the hard cash inside.

‘There’s an earpiece inside there,’ Shaw tipped the envelope slightly and out it fell into her hand, ‘bluetooth it to your phone.’

‘So I have your voice in my head? I don’t think so.’

‘It’s for your own safety Sameen.’

‘Own safety my ass,’ muttered Shaw, putting it in her ear anyway. Root seemed satisfied.

‘The money is for you.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

‘Shouldn’t you be paying me _after_ the job?’

‘I trust you Sameen.’

Shaw thought it wasn’t so much trust as ‘if you betray me where exactly are you going to run to?’ but she let it lie, shoving brown package into her coat pocket.

‘Anything else?’

‘That’s all for now. I’ll give you the details on your way there.’

 

* * *

 

Shaw stepped out onto the busy street.

‘So where exactly am I going Root?’

 _‘Just head left down here for now,’_ she sung.

Shaw fiddled with the earpiece trying to turn down that obnoxious cheer.

‘Who am I meeting?’

_‘The guy who shot me.’_

Shaw raised an eyebrow as she walked.

‘And you want me to shoot him?’

_‘He wanted to talk.  I’m sending you in my place.’_

‘And you want me to shoot him.’

Root chuckled.

 _‘Turn left here-‘_ Shaw did so, _‘-no. I want you to have a little chat.’_

‘You didn’t hire me to chat.’

 _‘Mmmm no, I hired you to do what I say,’_ Shaw’s jaw clenched, _‘but there is the small possibility things might turn ugly in which case you have my permission to shoot him.’_

‘Right.’

_‘Turn left again, then right. Stop when you reach the green dumpster and wait.’_

‘And how do you know where I am?’

 _‘Phone Sameen,’_ sung Root.

‘Right.’

Shaw reached her destination and waited.

‘Can I assume he won’t be alone?’

The man in question chose that moment to appear at the opposite end of the narrow alley flanked by two suited operatives, one male and one female.

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

‘Root?’

 _‘The woman is currently known as Martine Rousseau. Originally worked for the UN apparently, though there’s no record of her employment rather inconveniently, before being recruited by Greer personally. You’ll like her,’_ Shaw grunted and began walking towards the group, _‘the other is one Jeremy Lambert: fresh-faced, plucky and just out of MI6. Greer was apparently feeling nostalgic.’_

‘Should I be worried?’

 _‘You can handle yourself. And Sameen,’_ Root paused as Shaw narrowed in on a nearby security camera, guessing correctly that Root was watching her through the feed, _‘Shoot to kill.’_

Shaw nodded once before coming to a stop, meeting the entourage in the middle.

They regarded each other in silence.

‘And you are?’ asked Greer.

He was old: grey haired and suited. Elegantly British. Oxford, hazarded Shaw. Probably ex-SIS and well trained. Cold War era. Shaw kept on edge: this man was not to be underestimated.

‘You looking for Root?’

Greer raised an eyebrow.

‘You speak to me, _’_ Shaw paused, ‘apparently.’

She felt Martine’s eyes scanning her and watched the woman out of the corner of her eye.

Stiff posture, contained and alert: definitely US military.

‘And you are?’

‘Not important.’

‘Which is why we don’t want to deal with you,’ butted in Lambert.

Shaw fixed her stony gaze upon him and took him in. Naïve and eager to please but focused on the task. Oxford again, possibly an Etonian: Shaw could smell the money, the entitled inheritance.

Shaw shrugged nonchalantly.

‘Doesn’t bother me I’m just doing what I’m told.’

Lambert sneered.

‘Hired mercenary: I thought you said she was better than this?’

He was talking to Greer and Shaw clenched her fist.

 _‘Go on Sameen,’_ coaxed Root.

Shaw pulled out her gun and shot Lambert in the foot. Martine leveled her gun ready to fire at a word from Greer as Lambert fell to the ground whimpering. Greer chuckled.

‘Thing is, I don’t really care what this is about. And I don’t really have the time to deal with bullshit.’

Shaw turned and raised her gun to Martine.

‘I’ll shoot you before you even pull the trigger.’

‘I know. Worth a shot though.’

Root chuckled.

_‘You have such a way with words Sameen.’_

‘It seems our dear adversary has managed to pick a dab hand at this. Lower your weapon Martine.’

She did so. Shaw kept her weapon raised.

 _‘Put it down Sam,’_ instructed Root.

Shaw hesitated but did so.

‘I simply wish to talk to Ms. Groves about a certain attack on our facility and perhaps even to offer her employment in our company.’

Root scoffed in Shaw’s ear.

Shaw raised an eyebrow prompting him to continue.

‘She attacked me and forced my hand. But this can all stop. I’m highly interested in working together and I think we could achieve a great many things.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Can you speak for Ms. Groves?’

Shaw shrugged.

‘Sure. I don’t think she wants to work with you.’

‘If that’s the case I can shoot you now,’ spoke Martine.

Shaw kept her eyes trained on the woman for a beat.

‘I like you,’ Martine raised an eyebrow, ‘but I’m not exactly quaking in my boots. Look, my _employer_ doesn’t seem to keen on working with you: I think the attack proves that so whatever you’re selling, she ain’t buying.’

Greer smiled.

‘Such a shame. She knows the consequences of her decision. Dire indeed and may in fact pose a danger to yourself.’

‘Me?’

‘Federal manhunt my dear.’

‘Oh?’

 _‘At least try to sound shocked Sameen,’_ chided Root lightly and Shaw was getting seriously pissed off with this Jiminy Cricket thing.

‘I’m a very influential person.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘And I’d be interested in hiring your services.’

‘What?’ exclaimed Lambert from his position on the floors, ‘you can’t be serious?’

‘Jeremy,’ chided Greer and Lambert silenced himself, glaring daggers at Shaw.

‘I don’t know whether you’ve noticed but I’ve already got a job.’

‘I’ll pay you double.’

Shaw regarded Greer impassively.

‘Quadruple?’

‘If that is what it takes: you’re unusually apt at this. I think you could be a valuable asset.’

‘Funny. That’s what she said.’

_‘Oh come on I was much nicer than that.’_

‘Ms. Groves has impeccable taste.’

‘I’ll give her your compliments.’

‘And my offer?’

Shaw shrugged.

‘Like I say. Already got a job.’

‘And the money?’

Shaw locked eyes with Greer.

‘Does it look like I do this for the money?’

Shaw turned to go.

‘It was a pleasure meeting you Ms. Shaw.’

Shaw didn’t even stop.

‘It was all mine Mr. Greer.’

 

* * *

 

‘Nicely done Sameen.’

Shaw hoped her body hadn’t betrayed her surprise as Root appeared on her left.

She grunted in response.

‘And look: no murders!’

‘You sound like you were expecting some.’

‘I expected you to kill Lambert.’

‘Is that a critique?’

‘An observation. I’m intrigued as to why you didn’t.’

‘Because I didn’t fancy dying Root.’

Root hummed.

‘I’m getting a drink.’

Shaw peeled off and Root watched her leave.

‘I want that gun back,’ she called.

‘Shout it a little louder Root.’

Root chuckled, watching the woman go.

Greer’s offer had been ridiculous and he knew it. His appearance here meant he was currently housed at his New York offices and if she played things right-which she usually did- that meant she could implement a little side project. Shaw could help her with that, she thought; she’d ask later.

Root headed back to campus for her meeting with Harold.

Shaw’s loyalty had been…surprising but not unwanted. Had Shaw defected Root would have been sorry to see her go, and there was always the slight possibility that she might have. Still, her gamble had paid off: she had picked well.

Shaw was exactly what she wanted and more than she could have hoped.

 

* * *

 

Shaw flicked her pen through her fingers staring resolutely at the equation before her. The same equation she had been staring it for the past 15 minutes.

God fucking damn it.

She’d tried everything, run through every possible course events she thought might work but the thing wouldn’t solve itself and she was just about done.

She reached for the Mountain Dew on her table and took a swig, glaring at the equation.

It was late-or early depending on how you looked at it-and the library was empty save for a few choice students including Shaw herself, illuminated by the heavy light of the desk lamps and surrounded by the smell of age.

Shaw growled before slamming down her drink and reaching for her textbook, intent on working backwards from the answer.

She felt a light brush on her shoulder and spun round, hand instinctively clamping around a slender neck.

‘Hi Shaw,’ sung Root, eyes locked onto the woman.

Shaw growled.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

She gestured as best she could to her arm, tucked underneath which were several large books.

‘You don’t even study,’ hissed Shaw.

‘Can’t a girl expand her mind?’

‘No,’ she spat, loosening her grip and allowing Root to stand straight.

Shaw turned her back to Root.

Root didn’t leave.

‘Okay seriously what the fuck do you want?’ growled Shaw as Root’s light gaze finally broke her resolve.

She didn’t turn round: if she couldn’t see the self-satisfied smirk she _knew_ was there, it didn’t exist.

‘Do you need some help sweetie?’

‘No. And don’t call me sweetie.’

‘Not a fan of pet names?’ asked Root lightly.

‘Pretty sure it’s sexual harassment by an employer,’ shot back Shaw.

Root chuckled and leant in low by Shaw’s ear.

‘But we’re off the clock sweetie,’ she murmured and Shaw’s head whipped around teeth bared as Root backed off laughing.

‘You look a little tense.’

‘You look a little ‘about to be murdered.’’

‘Try integrating and expanding out,’ chimed Root already walking away and Shaw scowled.

‘Fucking nerd,’ she muttered before facing her work and staring defiantly.

Her phone buzzed.

_I heard that._

Shaw all but chucked her phone across her table.

 

* * *

 

The noise was overwhelming and Shaw retreated outside with her red plastic cup, heading for the back porch of the busy frat house and sitting on a deck chair.

She sipped her luke-warm and frankly disgusting beer as she watched a freshman spill his guts by the bushes, resisting the temptation to laugh.

‘Hey Shaw.’

John came up to sit next to her followed by Zoe and Carter who stood with their own drinks in hand.

She nodded in acknowledgment of their arrival.

‘Didn’t expect to see you here tonight?’

‘Spent all of last night finishing a Math assignment in the library. Tonight is the night to let loose.’

‘Amen to that,’ agreed Carter.

Shaw’s gaze scanned her surroundings.

‘Looking for anyone?’ asked John with an all too-knowing lilt in his voice.

‘No.’

‘Right. Well if you were wondering Root’s with Harold.’

‘I don’t care where Root is.’

‘Really? You two seem close.’

‘Shut up John.’

‘Spending a lot of time together?’

‘Not by choice,’ grit out Shaw.

John looked skeptical but Shaw ignored him.

‘Why Harold?’ she asked finally and John broke into a grin, ‘and this has nothing to do with me searching for her I’m just _curious_ ,’ she was quick to explain.

‘They’re working on some project,’ answer Zoe with a meaningful look at Shaw, ‘something to do with computers.’

‘That sounds like her; anyone know what it is?’

‘Harold asked for her help on his research that’s all we know. He’s a private person.’

‘So is she,’ muttered Shaw and Zoe let out a bark of laughter, ‘they’re perfect for each other.’

‘Hey Shaw,’ began Zoe, ‘wanna go get another drink?’

Shaw frowned.

‘No.’

Zoe raised an eyebrow.

‘Seriously? We’re doing this?’

This is why she hated people.

‘We’re not in some fucking film. What is it with everyone and films can’t people just _say what they mean,_ ’ she stood up and turned to face John and Carter, ‘we’re going to have a talk. Apparently a private one. Don’t follow us or I’ll break you legs.’

Shaw sauntered off and Zoe followed, leaving an amused John and a slightly confused Carter.

Shaw led Zoe to a secluded corner on the edge of the frat house grounds.

‘So what is it?’

‘I admire your…tact.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

‘Root and Harold.’

‘Yeah what about them?’

‘We need to find out what she’s doing.’

‘Not my business.’

‘You were interested not so long ago.’

‘Well now I’m not interested.’

‘I don’t believe that.’

Shaw sighed.

‘Look. Whatever Root does Root’s going to do anyway. And if Root’s using Harold then that’s his problem. I don’t know jack-shit about computers and frankly I don’t care to know so whatever it is they’re doing they can keep to themselves and deal with the fallout.’

‘Root isn’t a good person and whatever she’s planning won’t be good.’

‘You didn’t stop her.’

‘She’s…my friend.’

‘So she’s now my responsibility?’

‘You two seem… close now.’

‘Close is a relative term,’ growled Shaw.

‘It doesn’t matter. You can find out what she’s planning. Stop it.’

‘And why should I stop it? So what? She’s using Harold’s research for her own gains? Good for her. If he doesn’t notice and she gets away with it she can do what she likes. Her crimes are her problem.’

‘You don’t care at all?’

‘No. And neither should you,’ Shaw began to walk off, ‘drop it Zoe. Whatever she’s planning she’s going to do regardless of what you or I have to say about it. She’s having fun. Who am I to stop that?’

‘It stopped being fun the moment she went criminal,’ called Zoe to Shaw’s back.

Shaw stopped and turned.

‘It’s a different brand of fun Morgan. You should try it. You might like it.’

Shaw chucked her cup into a nearby bush and walked out into the deserted street, leaving the party behind.

Her phone buzzed.

_You’re so sweet <3_

‘Stop using my phone as a fucking microphone Root.’

_But I’m bored :(_

‘Then leave me alone.’

_No can do. Get changed. I’ll call you in half and hour._

_And thanks for the support sweetie. I pinky promise I’m not using poor Harry for evil deeds._

‘Not my problem if you were,’ muttered Shaw, shoving the phone into her pocket but not bothering to turn it off.

‘Nerd.’

Root chuckled at her computer.


	8. Definitely Up In Her Grill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit shorter this time but for a reason. 
> 
> I wanted to keep the next chapter all as one rather than split up their trip across the Atlantic because it's just an excuse to have more flirting while Root hacks and Shaw definitely doesn't kill people, but in Europe. So there's that to look forward to.

‘So this is Greer’s HQ?’

‘One of them yes,’ responded Root lightly as she rewired a mains box on the wall nearby.

Shaw stood looking up at the tall building a few feet away hands stuffed into her pockets.

‘And what are we doing here?’

‘Well,’ Root paused as he made the final connection, ‘you’re going to get me into their security network.’

Root shut the box.

‘I’ve just disabled all outside security cameras not connected to Decima’s secure mainframe.’

‘Why not take out Decima’s too? Blow the place up and be done with this?’

Root chuckled.

‘Patience Sameen,’ she sung, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a device, ‘their system runs on it’s own generator system. To gain access we need a few more things so for now their system remains in tact. As for the bombing: we have to take care of a several other thorns in my side before we can do that.’

‘FBI.’

‘Exactly.’

‘But we do get to blow this place?’

Root smiled and said nothing, instead handing her the device.

‘You are going to head down this,’ she walked over to a nearby sewer cover, ‘and hook that device up to their security network.’

‘And this does what?’

‘Let’s me see what they see.’

‘That’s it?’

‘That’s it. For now.’

Shaw examined the thing with disinterest, before placing it on the ground and helping Root pull off the manhole cover.

‘Jesus that fucking stinks.’

Shaw took off her jacket, leaving her in just a tank top, jeans and military grade boots.

‘Shouldn’t you have a protective suit sweetie?’

‘You got one handy?’

Root shook her head.

‘Then stop asking stupid questions.’

Shaw grabbed the device and jumped down the hole landing with a slight splash.

‘Torch.’

The item fell down and she caught it deftly.

‘Have fun Sameen.’

‘Fuck you.’

Shaw switched on the light in her hand and slowly pushed forward through the murky debris.

‘Please tell me it hasn’t rained recently,’ muttered Shaw as the water reached just below the top of her-thankfully waterproof- boots.

‘Nothing but sun these past few days. I do take your comfort into consideration Sameen.’

‘Could’ve fooled me.’

‘Don’t be bitter.’

‘I’ll be fucking bitter if I want to be bitter I am pushing through literal _shit_ for you Root.’

‘I’m almost flattered.’

Shaw glowered, reaching a fork in the tunnel system.

‘Which way?’

‘Right.’

Shaw kept walking.

She made the journey in relative silence, Root’s occasional directions echoing in her ear as she moved through the city’s plentiful excrement.

‘Am I going to encounter resistance?’

‘No one in their right mind would be stationed down here.’

‘So you send me down. Employee satisfaction is running pretty fucking low.’

‘I appreciate what you’re doing Sameen.’

‘You fucking better: I’m going to stink for days.’

‘You can use my shower.’

Shaw frowned in suspicion.

‘What’s the catch?’

‘No catch; I know your shower’s bad and like I said, I appreciate what you’re doing.’

Shaw was silent, pausing slightly on her journey examining hardened _something_ on the walls.

‘Okay.’

Root beamed on the other side of the com-link.

‘You should see a ladder straight ahead and next to that a room that says ‘No Entry.’

‘Let me guess: I’m going to enter?’

‘Your skills of perception are truly magnificent.’

‘Ha fucking ha.’

‘You might have to shoot the lock.’

Shaw made her way to said door, whipping out her gun and firing a quick shot.

‘Please tell me you had a silencer.’

‘No I’m a complete idiot.’

‘I knew you were the right choice.’

‘Stop stroking your ego for just a second and tell me where to put this fucking thing.’

‘Big box full of wires?’

‘Three.’

‘Middle one. Open it. Green, yellow and blue: second row third from the left, second row second from the right and bottom row far left. Unplug and insert.’

‘Done.’

‘Good work Sameen.’

 

* * *

 Shaw clambered out onto the street with no help from Root, standing and wiping herself off as best she could.

‘I need to bathe in bleach.’

Root closed her laptop and stood up from the ground, coming over and into Shaw’s personal space.

‘You’d think the smell would stop you doing that,’ growled Shaw, glaring at the woman who smiled and took a few steps back.

‘Yeah it’s pretty bad.’

Shaw’s mouth twisted into a grin.

‘But not a wasted venture. We’re in, or I am.’

‘Good. Can I shower now?’

‘Let’s take you home,’ chirped Root, leading the way out of the alley.

The walk home was surprisingly devoid of other city dwellers; whether that was due to the late hour or Shaw’s unique odor was up for debate but Shaw did find herself enjoying the wider berth Root was giving her.

Root led the way into her apartment.

‘Don’t touch anything. Just go shower.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

‘Wow. You crawl through shit for a girl and this is the thanks you get.’

‘You smell. Even my standards aren’t that low Sameen.’

Shaw made her way to the bathroom pulling off her jacket and top on the way.

‘Oops,’ she remarked casually as she tossed her t-shirt onto Root’s pillows, closing the bathroom door behind her.

‘Sameen!’

 

* * *

 

‘You look weary Ms. Groves.’

‘Hm?’

Root briefly looked up from her computer screen, back hunched over the desk as Harold watched her work.

‘You look tired.’

Root laughed lightly, returning her attention to the screen before her as she scanned her work.

‘I am a little.’

‘Exams?’

Root stood up straight, satisfied with the constructed code and walked over to where Harold stood, coming up behind him as he noted down server specifics.

‘Hmmm,’ responded Root.

In actual fact she hadn’t noticed the exams at all: she hadn’t planned on taking any considering her unofficial ‘I don’t actually go here’ status but now that he mentioned it Zoe had seemed a little stressed and she did keep finding students asleep in odd places.

‘What about you Harry?’

‘Finished yesterday morning thankfully.’

‘So you came running back to your little project.’

Harold turned around slightly to regard Root’s playful smile with a definite note of exasperation in his eye.

‘Yes.’

Root’s grin grew as she reached for his notebook, checking over his work.

‘We should be ready for a first test soon,’ she said, tone all business.

‘I agree. I’ll work on it from home as best I can over the Christmas period but I think for now we might have done all we can.’

Root nodded assent, handing back the notebook and moving to collect her belongings.

The two packed up in silence, Harold shutting down the monitors as Root cleared the ridiculously small workspace.

‘You never did say what it is you study Ms. Groves.’

‘Hm? Oh,’ the question threw her off slightly, ‘surely you did a background check before my unofficial apprenticeship?’

‘Unlike you Ms. Groves I try to respect the privacy of others.’

‘Of course my mistake I temporarily overlooked your moral superiority.’

‘I prefer to think of it as basic human decency.’

Root chuckled slightly, shrugging off Harold’s dismissal of the dubious use of her skills.

‘Touché Harry: my mistake.’

‘Considering your skills I would assume you major the same as I?’

‘Hm? Oh yes,’ agreed Root quickly.

‘Then your exams are over?’

‘Seems so.’

Root headed towards the door but Harold’s words stopped her.

‘There’s a party being held to celebrate. We’re all going but I extend the invitation to you as well. If you would like.’

Root smiled.

‘Thank you Harry. Zoe already extended and I accepted, but I appreciate the gesture. I suppose I’ll see you then.’

‘Indeed, though in case one of us happens to be less than sober I wish you a Happy Holidays Ms. Groves.’

Root laughed.

‘You too Harry.’

 

* * *

 

‘What the hell is she doing here?’ hissed Shaw

‘Last time you wanted her here.’

Shaw rounded on John.

‘No.’

‘You were asking about her.’

‘I was _curious_.’

‘As to her whereabouts because you wanted her to be there.’

‘Do you like your kidneys?’ she hissed menacingly, taking a swig of her beer.

‘I invited her,’ spoke up Harold standing nearby, ‘as did Zoe I believe.’

Shaw ground her jaw.

‘You can’t stop people from inviting their friends Shaw,’ reminded John, ‘it’s the end of exams. It’s just a party: relax.’

‘You should take his advice: you do look a little tense Sameen,’ advised a voice as its owner came up behind the duo, pushing her way between the two.

Root made to sling her arm over Shaw’s shoulders but Shaw darted out of the way, scowling. Root laughed.

‘You don’t even go here you have nothing to celebrate.’

Root pouted.

‘But Sameen I wanted to spend time with my new _pals_.’

Harold and John shared a look at the word whilst Shaw’s glare remained unrelenting.

‘I’m going to get another drink,’ declared Shaw eager to leave the woman.

‘Wait for me.’

‘Don’t even think about following me to the kitchen.’

‘But I need more ice.’

‘For what your _beer?_ ’ jeered Shaw.

‘Yes.’

Root was being impossible and Shaw was not in the mood to deal with her. Rather than continue the pointless discussion she pushed her way through to the kitchen of the frat house, accepting that Root was tailing her the whole way and instead taking solace from the fact that at least she didn’t grab her hand so they wouldn’t get _separated._

Shaw almost shuddered at the thought.

Reaching the kitchen Shaw chose to effectively ignore Root as the woman simply wandered around aimlessly.

‘I thought you wanted ice?’

She really couldn’t help herself could she?

‘Who puts ice in beer Sameen?’

‘So what was the point of all this?’

Her hand clasped around her new bottle tightly. It was all just a game and Shaw couldn’t help but play. And she wasn’t just talking about the inane conversational tactics.

‘I have a proposition.’

Shaw turned around to face Root but found her closer than previously anticipated, jolting slightly in surprise. If Root noticed the reaction she didn’t say anything.

‘And you had to be here because?’

‘I have a unique proposition.’

‘One of your secret ‘I’m not a killer for hire I’m a thief honest’ ones?’

Root chuckled, mirth swimming in her smiling eyes and as much as this playful talk irritated her Shaw couldn’t help but enjoy the challenge.

‘Yes Sameen, one of those.’

‘Right.’

Root took a step forward and, as she had hoped, Shaw didn’t back away.

‘What are you doing for Christmas?’

‘What?’

‘The holidays: come with me.’

‘Where?’

‘Mmmmm, England. London to be exact.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

‘And why would I do that?’

Root tilted her head and Shaw hated her height in a way she never had if only to wish the woman before her would stop looking down at her.

‘Did you have any other plans?’

The light phrasing of the question, as if Root already knew the answer, itched at Shaw and she found her free hand clenching slightly.

‘Is that any of you business?’ she spat.

‘No. You’ll come anyway.’

The omniscience snapped Shaw and the innuendo laced in Root’s tone fueled her as she stepped forward, forcing Root to back heavily into the metal fridge as Shaw pinned her neck with her free forearm bringing her face close to Root’s despite their height difference.

‘Give me one good reason,’ she hissed and she knew she would be terrifying to any other person but Root’s passive smirk remained as if this were natural, as if Shaw didn’t hold the upper hand and just once she wanted to catch Root unawares.

‘You mean besides the fact that I’m paying you?’

Shaw’s pressure increased and she felt Root swallow against her bare skin just as Root could feel each of Shaw’s exhales against her lips and even though Shaw clearly held the physical power Root barely felt threatened, too focused on regulating her breathing.

‘Why England?’ clipped out Shaw.

‘My treat,’ replied Root.

Shaw audibly growled and Root positively beamed at the sound. Shaw, while slightly confused by the reaction, did not let up her hold until Root relented.

‘Greer’s company has offices in the capital. I traced a phone call on a phone acquired for me by Zoe to find the location of some security protocol passwords.’

Shaw pulled away abruptly leaving Root against the fridge.

‘To gain access to the HQ mainframe here?’

‘That and wire in a few of my own…creations…yes.’

Shaw took a swig of her beer.

‘Bring the place to shit.’

Root came in close, looking almost fondly at the shorter woman who tensed at the new proximity.

‘You have such a way with words Sameen,’ hummed Root.

‘Yeah yeah. When do we leave?’

‘Two weeks. Where do you want me to pick you up?’

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

‘We’ll be travelling together Sameen,’ explained Root as if to a child.

‘Right,’ Shaw pushed past desperate to establish distance, ‘I’ll meet you at the airport.’

Root turned around.

‘Always so practical. I’ll text you flight details.’

‘Since when do you give out your number Shaw?’

Shaw’s head snapped to the intruder: John, arm hung loosely around Carter as they strode into the small kitchen.

‘Since when is that any of your business?’ shot back Shaw.

‘If you got less defensive maybe you wouldn’t look so suspicious and we wouldn’t suspect so much’

‘Suspect what?’ questioned Root.

‘John is convinced Shaw likes you,’ supplied Carter, ‘ actually, we all are.’

‘Oh?’

Shaw refused to look at Root who was enjoying this new information far too much.

‘And what do you think Sameen? Do you like me?’

‘No.’

‘I’m hurt.’

‘Get over it.’

Root risked a glance at John whose grin was in full force. Carter was nodding enthusiastically.

‘She definitely likes you.’

Shaw shot a look at Carter.

‘Who asked you?’

Carter shrugged.

Root had taken the time to sidle up next to a tense Sameen.

‘It’s okay Sameen. I know you like to be all tough for your friends,’ chided Root softly and Shaw shook off her patronizing tone, refusing to respond.

The song blaring from the next room chose that moment to change and a chorus of drunken voices could be heard. As the group recognized the tune Carter began to sing, John looking at her in light amusement, as Root’s face broke into a toothy smile.

Root opened her mouth to speak but Shaw swiftly cut her off.

‘Sing, and I’ll carve out your tongue and use it as bird feed.’

Root ignored the threat.

‘What do you say Sameen: do you want to go have some fun?’

‘Bite me.’

Root’s laughter followed Shaw as she made her escape, in blatant disregard for her overriding homicidal tendencies towards the woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song at the end: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6y_4_b6RS8
> 
> Points if you got that from the chapter title. I wrote this entire chapter listening to that song on repeat. Not sure whether that says more about me, root and shaw, or the fic.


End file.
